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lEISH-AMERICA^'  LIBRARY. 

VOLUME     III. 


^v  4#/ 


/y 


:  /K^ 


SERMONS 


AND 


LECTURES  ON  MORAL  AND  HISTORICAL 
SUBJECTS. 


BY 


Very  Rev.  THOMAS  N.  BURKE,  O.P. 


NEW  YORK: 

LYNCH,  COLE  &  MEEHAN,  57  MUKRAY  STREET. 
1873. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 

LYNCH,  COLE  &  MEEHAN, 
In  the  OflBce  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Stereotyped  and  Printed  at  tha 

Nl-.W  YORK  CATHOLIC  PROTECTORY, 

West  Chester,  X.  Y. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  discourses  contained  in  the  present  volume  comprise  the  most 
important  and  beautiful  of  the  Sermons  delivered  in  the  United  States 
by  the  Very  Rev.  Thomas  N.  Burke,  O.P.,  as  well  as  of  his  Lectures 
on  moral  and  historical  subjects, — all  of  which  possess  an  interest  for 
the  Irish-American  element  of  the  community,  not  only  as  magnificent 
and  praiseworthy  efibrts  of  one  of  the  most  gifted  living  orators  of  their 
race,  but  also  on  account  of  the  testimony  which  they  bear  to  the  fidel- 
ity to  faith,  religious  fervor,  and  national  virtue  exhibited  by  the  Irish 
people  in  every  vicissitude  of  fortune.  As  specimens  of  pulpit  oratory, 
nothing  can  be  imagined  finer  or  more  impressive  than  those  discourses ; 
while  the  enlightened  spirit,  and  broad,  compi-ehensive  views  characteriz- 
ing the  Lectures, — in  which  the  great  wants  and  deficiencies  of 
society,  in  the  present  day,  are  analyzed  with  the  acumen  of  a  master- 
mind and  the  learning  of  a  true  Christian  philosopher, — render  them 
doubly  valuable,  even  from  a  purely  humanitarian  point  of  view. 

The  secret  of  Father  Burke!s  influence  over  his  auditors,  (and,  indeed, 
over  his  readers,  also,)  lies  not  so  much  in  his  eloquence — great  as  are 
his  natural  gifts  in  that  particular — as  in  the  convincing  force  of  his 
sincerity,  and  the  intensity  of  his  zeal  for  the  enlightenment,  elevation, 
and  sanctification  of  all  his  fellow  creatures.  On  this  point,  one  of  the 
most  eminent  and  well-known  of  American  Catholic  writers  has  said  of 
the  great  Irish  Dominican : — 

"Father  Thomas  Burke  is  known  all  over  Europe,  as  a  great 
apostolic  preacher.  It  is  especially  in  Rome,  where  most  of  his  life 
has  been  passed,  that  his  reputation  is  so  great.  Wherever  he  goes, 
after  he  has  preached  once,  the  faithful  flock  around  the  pulpit  and 
around  the  church,  if  he  preaches  a  second  time,  as  bees  gather  round 
a  bed  of  jessamines.  *  *  *  What  is  the  power  by  which  he  holds, 
hushed  and  breathless,  each  one  in  a  crowded  congregation ;  alike  the 
most  learned  and  critical,  and  the  rough  men  with  little  either  of  senti- 
ment or  education  ?  A  natural  gift  of  oratory  no  one  can  mistake  in 
him.     He  has  the  richness  of  voice,  and  the  persuasiveness  of  accent. 


18f 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

that  God  has  lavished  so  largely  on  his  countrjmen.  But  these  are 
'tricks  of  the  tongue/  that  the  man  of  trained  intellect  can  arm  himself 
against,  even  while  he  admires  them.  But  Father  Burke  disarms  this 
trained,  intellectual  listener;  because,  in  him,  it  is  neither  trick  nor  art. 
It  is  ihe  gift  God  has  given  him,  and  that  he  has  consecrated  to  God! 
The  honey-dew  that  drops  fi-om  his  lips  is  distilled  from  a  soul  con- 
secrated to  God,  and  an  intellect  saturated  and  steeped  in  the  learning 
and  piety  of  the  Saints  and  Doctors  of  the  Church." 

All  the  discourses  given  in  this  voliime  have  been  taken  down  by 
competent  stenographers,  with,  the  utmost  accuracy  and  fidelity,  as 
delivered  by  Father  Burke,  and,  in  the  course  of  compilation  have  been 
carefully  revised,  in  order  that  they  should  not  only  be  correct  as  to  the 
text,  but  should,  in  every  w^ay,  accord  with  the  high  reputation  of  the 
illustrious  Dominican,  who,  as  a  preacher,  stands  to-day  without  a 
superior,  and  with  scarce  a  rival. 


CONTENTS. 


The  Christian  Man.  the  Max  of  thk  Day 

The  Catholic  Church,  the  Foster-Mother  of  Liberty 

The  Church,  the  Mother  and  Inspiration  of  Art 

St.  John  the  Evaxoelist 

Chjiist  ox  Calvary 

The  Catholic  Church,  the  Salvation  op  Society 

The  Resurrection 

The  Catholic  Mission 

The  Coxstitutiox  of  the  Catholic  Church     . 

The  Attributes  of  Catholic  Charity  . 

The  Catholic  Church,  the  True  Emancipator 

The  Month  of  Mary 

The  Positiox  and  Dignity  of  the  Mother  op  God 
Mary,  the  Immaculate  Mother  of  God 
The  Pope's  Tiara,  its  Past,  Present,  and  Future 
The  Immaculate  Conception  .... 

Catholic  Education 

The  Blessed  Eucharist 

The  Divine  Commission  op  the  Church    . 


PAOE 
9 

.  25 

48 

.  70 

87 

.  110 

133 
.  145 

158 
.  180 

200 
.  219 

231 
.  240 

250 
.  272 

288 
.  306 

325 


LECTURES  AND  SERMONS.  " 


THE  CHRISTIAN  MAN  THE  MAN  OF  THE  DAY. 

{_A  Discourse  Delivered  by  the  Very  Rev.  T.  N.  Burke.  O.P.,   in  St. 
Faul's  Church,  Brooklyn,  March  22,  1872 J 

My  feiends  :  I  have  selected,  as  the  subject  on  which  to 
address  yon,  the  "following  theme  : — "  The  Christian  Man  the 
IMan  of  the  Day."  You  may,  perhaps,  be  inclined  to  suppose 
that  I  mean  by  this,  that,  in  reality,  the  Christian  man  was 
the  actual  man  of  the  day  ;  that  he  was  the  man  whom  our  age 
loved  to  honor ;  that  he  was  the  man  who,  recognized  as  a 
Christian  man,  received,  for  that  very  reason,  the  confidence  of 
his  fellow-men  and  every  honor  society  could  bestow  upon  him. 
Do  not  flatter  yourselves,  my  friends,  that  this  is  my  meaning. 
I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  Christian  man  is  the  man 
of  the  day.  ^  wish  I  could  say  so.  But  what  I  do  mean  is, 
that  the  Christian  man,  and  he  alone,  must  be  the  man  of  the 
day ;  that  our  age  cannot  live  without  him ;  and  that  we  are 
fast  approaching  to  such  a  point,  that  the  world  itself  will  be 
obliged,  on  the  principle  of  self-presentation,  to  cry  out  for 
the  Christian  man.  But  to-day  he  is  not  in  the  high  places ; 
for  the  spirit  of  the  age  is  not  Christian.  Now,  mark  yon, 
there  is  no  man  living  who  is  a  greater  lover  of  his  age  than  I 
am  :  and,  priest  as  I  am,  and  monk  as  well,  coming  here  before 
you  in  this  time-honored  old  habit ;  coming  before  tlie  men  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  as  if  I  were  a  fossil  dug  out  of  the  soil 
of  the  thirteenth  century,  I  still  come  before  you  as  a  lover  of 
the  age  in  which  we  live,  a  lover  of  its  freedom,  a  lover  of  its 
laws,  and  a  lover  of  its  material  progress.  But  I  still  assert 
that  the  spirit  of  this  nineteenth  centmy  of  ours  is  not  Catholic. 
Let  me  prove  it.  At  this  very  moment,  the  Catholic  Church, 
tlirough  her  bishops,  is  engaged  in  a  hand-to-hand  and  deadly 
conflict,  in  England,  in  Ireland,  in  Belgium,  in  France,  in 


10  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

Gei-raaiiy,  aye,  and  in  tliis  country,  with  tlie  spirit  of  the  age  ; 
and  for  what  ?  The  men  in  power  try  to  lay  hold  of  the  young 
child,  to  control  that  child's  education,  and  to  teach  him  all 
things  except  religion.  But  the  bishops  come  and  say :  "  This 
is  a  question  of  life  and  death,  and  the  child  must  be  a 
Christian.  Unless  he  is  taught  of  God,  it  is  a  thousand  times 
better  that  he  were  never  taught  at  all ;  for  knowledge  with- 
out God  is  a  curse,  a,nd  not  a  blessing."  Now,  if  our  age  were 
Christian,  would  it  thus  seek  to  banish  God  from  the  schools, 
to  erase  the  name  of  God  clean  out  of  the  heart  of  that  little 
one,  for  whom  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  shed  his  blood  ?^ 

Another  proof  that  the  spirit  of  our  age  is  anti-Christian, — 
for  whatever  contradicts  Christ  is  anti-Christian  : — Speaking 
of  the  most  sacred  bond  of  matrimony,  which  lies  at  the  root 
of  all  society,  at  the  fountain-head  of  all  the  world's  future, 
Christ  has  said:  "What  God  hath  joined. together,  let  no 
man  put  asunder."  But  the  Legislature — the  "  spirit  of  the 
age,"  as  it  is  called — comes  in  and  says :  "  I  will  not  recognize 
this  union  as  being  from  God :  I  reserve  to  myself  the  right 
to  separate  them."  They  have  endeavored  to  substitute  a 
civil  marriage  for  the  holy  Sacrament  which  Christ  sanctified 
by  His  presence,  and  ratified  by  His  first  nnracle, — the  sacra- 
ment which  represents  the  union  of  Christ  with  His  Church. 
"  I  will  not  let  God  join  them  together,"  says  the  State ; 
"let  them  go  to  a  magistrate  or  a  registrar."  Let  God 
have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Let  no  sanctifying  influence  be 
upon  them;  leave  them  to  their  own  histful  desires,  and  to 
the  full  enjoyment  of  wicked  passions,  unchecked  by  God. 

Thus  the  State  rules,  in  case  of  marriage,  and  says :  "  I 
will  break  asunder  that  bond."  And  it  made  the  anti-Chris- 
tian law  of  "  divorce."  "  Whom  God  joins  together,"  says 
the  Master  of  the  world,  whose  word  shall  never  pass  away, 
though  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away, — "let  no  man 
separate."  God  alone  can  do  it :  the  man  who  dares  to  do 
it  shakes  the  very  foundation  of  society,  and  takes  the  key- 
stone out  of  the  arch.  But  the  State  comes  and  says :  "I 
will  do  it."  This  is  the  legislation— this  is  the  spirit  of 
our  age.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  there  were  not 
sins  and  vices  in  other  ages ,'  but  I  have  been  taught,  from 
my  earliest  childhood,  to  look  back,  full  six  hundred  years, 
to  that  glorious  thirteenth  centmy,  for  the  bloom  and  flower 
of  sanctity  prospering  upon  the  eai'th.     Still,  I  have  been  so 


THE  CEEISTIAN  MAN  THE  MAX  OF  THE  DAY.       11 

taught  as  not  to  shut  ni}^  eyes  to  its  vices ;  and  yet  the  spirit 
of  that  age  was  more  Christian  than  the  spirit  of  this.  The 
spirit  that  had  faith  enough  to  declare  that,  whatever  else 
was  touched  by  profane  hands,  the  sanctity  of  the  marriage 
Sacrament  was  to  remain  inviolate ;  when  all  recognized  its 
living  author  as  the  Son  of  God.  It  had  faith  enough  to 
move  all  classes  of  men  as  one  individual,  and  as  possessing 
one  faith  and  one  lofty  purpose.  And  this  is  not  the  spirit 
of  our  age.  Whom  do  we  hear  spoken  of  as  the  men  who 
invent  and  make  our  telegraphs  and  railroads,  and  all  the 
great  works  of  the  day  ?  We  hear  very  little  ahout  Catholics 
being  any  thing  generally  but  lookers-on  in  these  great  mat- 
ters ;  that  Catholics  had  nothing  to  do  with  them,  and  that 
they  came  in  simply  to  profit  by  the  labor  of  others.  And 
yet  do  we  not  know  that  nearly  every  great  discovery  made 
upon  this  earth  was  made  by  some  Catholic  man  or  other; 
and  some  of  the  greatest  of  them  all  made  by  old  monks  in 
their  cloisters  ?  Therefore,  as  the  spirit  of  the  day  makes  the 
man  of  the  day,  I  cannot  congratulate  you,  my  friends,  that 
the  man  of  the  day  is  a  Christian  man. 

Now,  I  am  here  this  evening,  to  prove  to  you,  and  to  bring 
home  to  your  intelligence,  two  great  facts :  remember  them 
always:  First — The  man  the  world  makes  independent  of 
God,'  is  such  an  incubus  and  curse,  that  the  world  itself  can- 
not bear  him,  that  the  world  itself  cannot  endm'e  him ;  for, 
if  he  leaves  his  mark  upon  history,  it  is  a  curse,  and  for  evil. 
Secondly — The  only  influence  that  can  purify  and  save  the 
world,  is  the  spirit  of  that  glorious  religion  which  alone 
represents  Christianity.  Call  me  no  bigot,  if  I  say  that  the 
Catholic  Church  alone  is  the  great  representative  of  Chris- 
tianity. I  do  not  deny  that  there  is  gooduess  outside  of  it, 
nor  that  there  are  good  and  honest  men  who  are  not  of  this 
Church.  Whenever  I  meet  an  honest,  truthful  man,  I  never 
stop  to  inquire  if  he  is  Catholic  or  Protestant ;  I  am  always 
ready  to  do  him  honor,  as  "  the  noblest  work  of  God."^  But 
this  I  do  sav — all  this  is,  in  reality,  represented  in  the 
Catholic  Church.  And  I  further  assert  that  the  Catholic 
Church  alone  has  the  power  to  preserve  in  man  the  conscious- 
ness that  God  has  created  him. 

And  now,  having  laid  down  my  opening  remarks,  let  ns 
look  at  the  man  of  Uie  day,  and  see  what  he  is.  Many  of  you 
have  the  ambition  to  become  men  of  the  dav.     It  is  a  pleas- 


12  FATHER  BUBKE'S  DISCO UBSJES. 

ant  thing  to  be  pointed  at  and  spoken  of  as  a  man  of  the  day. 
"  There  is  a  man  who  has  made  his  mark."  ^'  There  is  a  man 
of  whom  every  one  speaks  well ;  the  intelligent  man,  the 
successful  man,  the  man  who  is  able  to  propound  the  law  by 
expressing  his  opinion ;  able  to  sway  the  markets ;  the  man 
whose  name  is  blazoned  everywhere."  You  all  admire  this 
man.  But  let  us  examine  him  in  detail — ^for  he  is  made  for 
mere  show,  a  mere  simulacrum  of  a  man.  Let  us  pick  him  in 
pieces,  and  see  what  is  in  this  man  of  the  day  j  whether  he 
will  satisfy  God  or  man;  see  whether  he  will  come  up  to  the 
wants  of  society  or  not. 

Man,  I  suppose  you  will  all  admit,  was  created  by  Al- 
mighty God  for  certain  fixed,  specific  pmposes  and  duties. 
Sm-ely,  the  God  of  wisdom,  of  infinite  love, — a  God  of  infinite" 
knowledge  and  freedom, — never  communicated  to  an  intel- 
ligent human  being  power  and  knowledge  like  His  own,  with- 
out having  some  high,  grand,  magnificent,  and  God-like 
purpose  in  view.  A  certain  purpose  must  have  guided  Him. 
Certain  duties  must  have  attached  to  the  glorious  privileges 
that  are  thus  imprinted  on  man's  soul  as  the  image  of  God. 
And  hence,  my  fiiends,  there  are  the  duties  man  owes  to  the 
family  ;  the  duties  of  the  domestic  circle ;  the  duties  he  owes 
to  society,  to  those  who  come  within  the  range  of  his 
influence,  and  within  the  circle  of  his  friendship ;  the  duties 
he  owes  to  his  country  and  native  land, — his  political  duties ; 
and,  finally,  over  them  all,  permeating  through  them  all, 
overshadowing  all  that  is  in  him,  there  is  his  great  duty  to 
Almighty  God,  who  made  him. 

Now,  what  are  man's  duties  in  the  domestic  circle  ?  Surely, 
the  fii'st  vutue  of  man  in  this  circle  is  the  virtue  of  fidelity, 
representing  the  purity  of  Christ  in  the  man's  soul ;  the  vir- 
tues of  fidelity,  stability,  and  immovable  loyalty  to  the  vows 
he  has  pledged  before  high  heaven,  and  to  all  the  con- 
sequences these  vows  have  involved.  God  created  man  -^ath 
a  hearty  disposition  to  love  and  to  find  the  worthy  object  of 
his  love  ,*  and  to  give  to  that  object  the  love  of  his  heart,  is 
the  ordinary  nature  of  man.  A  few  are  put  aside — among 
them  the  priest  and  the  monk  and  the  nun,  to  whom  God 
says,  "I  myself  will  be  your  love:"  and  they  know  no 
love  save  that  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Yet  they  have  the 
same  craving  for  love,  the  same  deske,  and  the  same  neces- 
sity.    But  to  them  the  Lord  says:  "I  myself  will  be  your 


THE  CHRISTIAN  MAN  THE  MAN  OF  THE  DAY.        13 

love,  your  portion,  your  inheritance."  These,  I  say,  are 
those  who  are  wTapt  in  the  love  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
This  is  not  the  time  nor  the  occasion  for  me  to  dwell  upon 
the  infinite  joy  and  substantial  happiness  of  the  days  of  those 
who  have  fastened  their  hearts  upon  the  great  heart  of  Jesus 
Christ ;  but,  for  the  ordinary  run  of  mankind,  love  is  a  neces- 
sity )  and  the  Almighty  has  created  that  desire  for  love  in 
the  hearts  of  all  men ;  and  it  has  become  sanctified  and 
typical  of  the  union  of  Christ  with  His  Church  ;  typical  of 
the  grace  that  Christ  poured  abroad  upon  her :  and  this  love 
must  lie  at  the  very  fountain-head  of  society  ;  it  must  sanctify 
the  very  spring  whence  all  our  human  natm-e  flows  ;  for  it  is 
out  of  this  union  of  two  loving  hearts  that  our  race  is  pro- 
pagated, and  mankind  continued  to  live  on  earth.  What  is 
that  grace  which  sanctifies  it  ?  I  answer,  it  is  the  grace  of 
fidelity.  Understand  me  well ;  there  is  nothing  more  erratic, 
nothing  more  changeable  than  this  heart  of  man ;  nothing 
wilder  in  its  acts,  in  its  propensities,  than  this  treacherous 
heart  of  man.  I  know  of  no  greater  venture  that  a  human 
being  can  make  than  that  which  a  young  woman  makes,  when 
she  takes  the  hand  of  a  young  man,  and  hears  the  oath  fi-om 
his  lips  that  no  other  love  than  hers  shall  ever  enter  his 
heart.  A  treacherous,  erratic  heart  is  this  of  man ;  prone  to 
change,  prone  to  evil  influences,  excited  by  every  form  of  pass- 
ing beauty.  But  from  that  union  spring  the  obligations  of 
father  and  mother  to  their  progeny.  Their  children  are  to  be 
educated ;  and  as  they  grow  up  and  bloom  mto  the  fulness 
of  their  reason,  the  one"  object  of  the  Christian  father  and 
mother  is  to  bring  out  in  these  children  the  Christianity  that 
is  latent  in  them.  Christ  enters  into  the  young  soul  by  Bap- 
tism ;  but  He  lies  sleeping  in  that  soul,  acting  only  upon  the 
blind  animal  instincts  of  infancy  ;  and,  as  the  child  wakes  to 
reason,  Christ  that  sleeps  there  must  be  awakened  and  devel- 
oped, mitil  that  child  comes  to  the  fulness  of  his  intellectual 
age,  and  the  man  of  God  is  fully  developed  in  the  child  of 
earth. 

Now,  how  does  the  man  of  the  day  fulfil  this  end  ?  how 
does  he  fulfil  these  duties  to  his  wife  and  to  his  children, 
these  duties  which  we  call  the  domestic  duties  ?  This  "  clever" 
man  of  the  day — how  does  he  fulfil  them?  He,  perhaps,  in 
his  humbler  days,  before  he  knew  to  what  meridian  the  sun 
of  his  fortune  would  rise,  took  to  himself  a  fair  and  modest 


14  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

wife.  Fortune  smiled  upon  liim.  Tlie  woman  remained 
content  only  with  her  first  and  simple  love,  and  with  fidelity 
to  the  man  of  her  choice,  and  the  duties  which  that  love 
broug'ht  with  them.  But  how  is  it  with  the  man  of  the  day  ? 
Shall  I  insult  the  ears  of  the  Christian  by  following  the  man 
of  the  day  through  all  the  dark  paths  of  his  iniquity  ?  Shall 
I  describe  to  you  the  glance  of  his  lustful  eye,  forgetful  of  the 
vows  he  has  made  to  the  one  at  home?  Can  I  tell  you  of 
the  man  of  the  day,  following  every  passing  form, — a  mere 
lover  of  beauty  j  without  principle,  without  God,  without 
virtue,  and  without  a  thought  of  the  breaking  hearts  at  home? 
Shall  I  tell  you  of  the  man  of  the  day  trying  to  conceal  the 
silvering  hand  of  age  as  it  passes  over  him,  trying  to  retain 
the  shadow  of  departed  youth — and  why?  Because  all  the 
worst  vices  of  the  young  blood  are  there,  for  they  are  insepar- 
able from  the  man  of  the  day.  Sometimes,  in  some  fearful 
example,  he  comes  out  before  us  in  all  his  temble  deformity. 
The  world  is  astonished — the  world  is  frightened  for  a  moment ; 
but  men  who  understand  all  these  things,  better  than  you  or 
I,  come  to  us,  and  say :  "  Oh  !  this  is  what  is  going  on  ;  this 
is  the  order  of  the  day."  There  is  no  vestige  of  purity,  no 
vestige  of  fidelity.  Mind  and  imagination  corrupted ;  the  very 
flesh  rotting,  defiled  by  excess  of  unmentionable  sin.  Chil- 
dren are  brought  forth  to  him  in  all  innocence,  in  all  the 
magnificence  of  God-like  purity :  but  the  time  comes  when 
the  State  assumes  that  which  neither  God  nor  man  ever 
intended  it  should  assume — namely,  the  office  of  instructor ; 
when  the  State  comes  and  says  :  "  I  will  take  the  children  ; 
I  will  teach  them  every  thing  excepting  God ;  I  will  bring 
them  up  clever  men,  but  infidels,  without  the  knowledge 
of  God."  Then  the  man  of  the  day  turns  round  to  the 
State,  and  says,  "Take  the  labor  off  our  hands 5  these 
children  are  incumbrances  ;  we  don't  want  to  educate  them  : 
you  say  you  will."~  But  the  Church  comes  in,  like  a  true 
mother, — like  the  mother  of  the  days  of  Solomon ;  and,  with 
heartbreaking  accents,  says  to  the  father,  "  Give  me  the 
child  ;  for  it  was  to  me  that  Christ  said :  '  Go  and  teach  ;  go 
and  educate.'"  But  the  father  turns  away.  He  will  not 
trust  his  child  to  that  instructor  who  will  bring  up  this  child 
as  a  rebuke  to  him  in  his  old  age  for  his  wickedness,  by  its 
own  virtue  and  goodness.  The  "  spuit  of  the  age  "  not  only 
tolerates  this,  but  actually  assists  all  this.     This  man  may 


THE  CHRISTIAN  MAN  THE  MAN  OF  THE  DAY.       15 

tell  his  wife  that  she  is  not  the  undisturbed  mistress  of  her 
house.  He  may  come  in  with  a  writing  of  '^  divorce  "  in  his 
hand,  and  turn  his  wife  out  of  doors.  Yes ;  when  her  beauty 
and  accomplishments  are  not  up  to  the  fastidious  taste  of  this 
man  of  the  day,  he  may  call  in  the  State  to  make  a  decree  of 
'^  divorce,"  and  depose  the  mother  of  his  children,  the  queen 
of  his  heart. 

Let  us  now  pass  from  the  domestic  to  the  social  circle.  He 
is  surrounded  by  his  friends  and  has  social  influence.  He  has 
a  duty,  to  lay  at  least  one  stone  in  the  building  up  of  that 
society  of  which  the  Almighty  created  him  a  member,  and  of 
which  He  will  demand  an  account  in  the  hour  of  death.  Every 
man  is  a  living  member  of  society.  He  owes  a  duty  to  that 
society.  What  is  that  duty  ?  It  is  a  duty  of  truthfulness  to 
our  friends,  a  good  example  to  those  around  us,  a  respect  and 
veneration  for  every  one,  old  and  young,  with  whom  we  come 
in  contact.  Even  the  pagans  acknowledge  this  in  the  maxim, 
"  Maxima  debetur  puero  revereniia"  The  man  of  the  day 
opens  his  mouth  to  vomit  forth  words  of  blasphem}^,  or  sicken- 
ing obscenity  j  and  before  him  may  be  the  young  boy,  grow- 
ing into  manhood,  learning  studiously,  from  the  accomplished 
jestei^s  lips,  the  lesson  of  iniquity  and  impurity  that  will  ruin 
his  soul.  Hear  him,  and  follow  him  into  more  refined  and 
general  society.  What  a  consummate  hypocrite  he  is,  when 
he  enters  his  own  house,  dressed  for  the  evening !  With  a 
smile  upon  his  face,  and  with  words  of  affection  upon  his 
adulterous  lips,  he  addresses  himself  to  his  wife,  or  to  his 
daughter,  or  to  his  lady  friends.  What  a  consummate  hypo- 
crite he  is  !  Ah  !  who  would  Imagine  that  he  knows  every 
mystery  of  iniquity  and  defilement,  even  to  its  lowest  depths  ! 
Who  would  imagine  that  this  smiling  face  has  learned  the 
smile  of  contempt  for  every  thing  that  savors  of  virtue,  of 
purity,  and  of  God  !  Who  would  imagine  that  the  man  who 
takes  the  virgin  hand  of  the  young  girl  in  his,  and  leads  her 
with  so  much  confidence  and  so  much  gladness  to  the  altar, — 
who  would  imagine  that  that  man's  hand  is  defiled  by  contact 
with  every  thing  abominable  that  the  demon  of  impurity  could 
present  to  him  I  Take  him  in  his  relations  with  his  friends. 
Is  he  a  tmstworthy  friend  ?  Is  he  a  reliable  man  ?  Will  he 
not  slip  the  wicked  publication  into  the  hands  of  his  young 
friend,  to  instruct  him  in  vice  ?  Will  he  not  pass  the  obscene 
book  fi'om  hand  to  hand,  with  a  pleasant  look,  as  though  it 


16  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

were  a  good  thing,  altliough  he  knows  the  poison  of  hell  is 
lurking  between  its  leaves  ?  Is  he  a  reliable  man  ?  Is  he 
trustworthy  ?  Go  and  ask  his  friends  will  they  trust  him  ;  and 
they  will  turn  and  laugh  in  your  face,  and  tell  you  he  is  as 
''slippery  as  an  eel." 

This  is  the  man  of  the  day, — this  boasted  hero  of  ours, — 
in  a  social  way.  Pass  a  step  farther  on.  Take  him  in  his 
relations  to  his  country,  to  its  legislature,  to  its  government. 
Take  him  in  what  they  call  the  political  relations  of  life. 
What  shall  I  say  of  him  ?  I  can  simply  put  it  all  in  a  nut- 
shell. I  ask  you,  my  friends,  in  this  our  day,  suppose  some- 
body were  to  ask  you  to  say  a  good  word  for  him,  as  for  a 
friend ;  suppose  somebody  were  to  ask  you  the  character  of 
the  man ;  and  suppose  3^ou  said :  ''  Well,  he  is  an  honest 
man  ;  a  man  of  upright  character  in  business  ;  a  man  of  well- 
ascertained  character  in  society ;  a  good  father,  a  good  hus- 
band,— but,  you  know — he  is  a  politician  ; " — I  ask  you, 
is  there  not  something  humiliating  in  the  acknowledgment, 
— "  he  is  a  "politician "? "  Is  it  not  almost  as  if  you  said 
something  dishonorable,  something  bad?  But  there  ought 
to  be  nothing  dishonorable  in  it.  On  the  contrary, 
every  man  ought  to  be  a  politician, — especially  in  this 
glorious  new  country,  which  gives  every  man  a  right  of 
citizenship,  and  tells  him :  ''  My  friend,  I  will  not  make  a 
law  to  bind  and  govern  you  without  your  consent  and  per- 
mission ;  " — why,  that  very  fact  makes  every  man  a  politician 
among  us.  But  if  it  does,  does  it  not  also  recognize  the 
grand  virtue  which  underlies  every  free  government ;  which 
makes  every  man  a  sharer  in  its  blessings,  because  he  en- 
hances them  by  his  integrity ;  which  makes  politics  not  a 
shame  and  a  disgrace,  but  something  to  be  honored  and 
prized  as  the  aim  of  unselfish  patriotism  f  What  is  that  ?  It  is- 
a  love,  but  not  a  selfish  love,  of  one's  country ;  a  love,  not 
seeking  to  control  or  share  its  administration  for  selfish  pur- 
poses— not  to  become  rich — not  to  share  in  this,  or  take 
that — but  to  serve  the  country  for  its  good,  and  to  leave  an 
honorable  and  unblemished  name  in  the  annals  of  that 
country's  history.  Is  this  the  man  of  the  day  f  I  will  not 
answer  the  question.  I  am  a  stranger  amongst  you ;  and  it 
would  be  a  great  presumption  in  me  to  enter  upon  a  dissertation 
on  the  politics  of  America.  But  this  I  do  know,  that,  if  the 
politicians  of  this  country  are  as  bad,  or  half  as  bad  as  their 


THE  CHRISTIAN  MAN  THE  MAN  OF  THE  DAY.       17 

own  newspapers  represent  them,  it  is  no  credit  to  a  man  to 
be  a  politician.  Some  time  ago  a  fellow  was  arrested  in 
France  for  having  committed  a  robbery.  He  was  taken 
before  a  magistrate  and  jury,  and  the  prosecuting  officer  said  : 
"  The  crime  of  the  man  incUcted  before  you  is  this :  That  on 
such  a  night  he  went  to  such  a  house  for  the  pm-pose  of  rob- 
bery." <'  Yes,"  said  he,  "  it  is  so  ;  but  remember,  there  is  an 
extenuating  circumstance."  "What  is  it?"  ''I  am  no 
Jesuit."  "  Did  you  rob  the  house  ?  "  "  Yes,  I  did."  "  Did 
you  rob  the  house  and  set  fire  to  it?"  "Yes,  I  didj  but, 
thank  God,  I  am  no  Jesuit."  This  man  had  been  reading 
the  French  infidel  newspapers ;  and  he  selected  a  priest  as 
something  worse  than  himself.  Bad  as  he  was,  in  order  to 
make  it  appear  that  there  was  something  still  worse,  it  was 
necessary  to  say,  "  he  was  not  a  Jesuit."  So  if  a  man  were 
aiTaigned  for  any  conceivable  crime,  he  might  urge,  as  an  ex- 
tenuating circumstance,  "  It  is  true ;  I  did  it ;  but  I  am  no 
politician  !  "  Thank  God,  there  are  many  and  honorable  ex- 
ceptions. If  there  were  not  many  honorable  exceptions,  what 
would  become  of  society  ?  Why,  society  itself  would  come  to 
a  standstill.  But  there  are  honest  and  independent  men, 
and  no  word  of  mine  can  be  regarded  as,  in  the  slightest 
degree,  reflecting  on  any  man,  or  class  of  men.  True,  I 
know  no  one :  I  speak  simply  as  a  stranger  coming  amongst 
yon,  and  from  simply  reading  the  accounts  that  yoiir  daily 
papers  give. 

Now,  I  ask  you,  if  the  man  of  the  age,  or  the  day,  be 
such — and  I  do  not  think  that  I  have  overdrawn  the  picture ; 
nay  more,  I  am  convinced  that,  in  the  words  I  have  used,  you 
have  recognized  the  truth,  perhaps  something  less  than  *^the 
whole  truth,  of  "  the  man  of  the  day"  in  his  social,  political, 
and  domestic  relations — I  ask  you — not  as  a  Catholic  priest 
at  all,  but  as  a  man — as  a  man  not  -uithout  some  amount  of 
intelligence— as  one  speaking  to  his  fellow-men,  as  intel- 
lectual men — can  this  thing  go  on?  Should  this  go  on?  Are 
you  in  society  prepared  to  accept  that  man  as  a  true  man  of 
the  day  1  Aie  you  prepared  to  multiply  him  as  the  model 
man  ?  Are  you  prepared  to  say :  "  We  are  satisfied ;  he  comes 
up  to  the  requirements  of  our  mark  ?"  Or,  on  the  other  hand, 
must  you  say  this :  "  It  will  never  do :  if  this  be  the  man  of 
the  day  there  is  an  end  to  society  ;  if  this  be  the  man  of  the 
day,  it  will  never  do ;  we  must  seek  another  style — another 


18  FATHER  BUBKWS  DISCOURSES. 

stamp  of  man,  with  other  principles  of  conduct,  or  else  society 
comes  to  a  deadlock  and  standstill  f"  And  to  those  two  pro- 
positions T  will  invite  your  attention. 

Go  back  three  hundred  years  ago.  When  Martin  Luther 
inaugurated  Protestantism,  one  of  the  principles  upon  which 
he  rested  his  fallacy  was  to  separate  the  Church  from  all 
influence  upon  human  affairs.  His  tenets  said:  "Let  her 
teach  religion,  but  let  her  not  be  mixing  herself  up  with  this 
question  or  that."  The  Church  of  Cod,  my  dear  friends,  not 
only  holds  and  is  the  full  deposit  of  truth,  not  only  preaches 
it,  not  only  pours  forth  her  sacramental  graces,  but  the 
Church — ^the  Catholic  Chui'ch — mixes  herself  up  with  the 
thousand  questions  of  the  day — not  as  guiding  them,  not  as 
dictating  or  identifying  herself  with  this  policy  or  that,  but  as 
simply  coming  in  to  declare,  in  every  walk  of  life,  certain  prin- 
ciples and  rules  of  conduct.  Here  let  me  advert  to  the  false 
principle  that,  outside  of  the  four  walls  of  her  temples,  she  has 
nothing  to  do  with  man's  daily  work.  This  principle  was 
followed  out  in  France  in  1792-3,  when  not  only  was  the 
Church  separated  from  all  legitimate  influence  in  society,  but 
she  was  completely  deposed  for  the  time  being.  And  now, 
the  favorite  expression  of  this  day  of  our  is :  "  Oh,  let  the 
Catholic  priests  preach  until  they  are  hoarse ;  let  them  fire 
away  until  they  are  black  in  the  face ;  but  let  us  have  no 
Catholicity  here,  Catholicity  there,  the  priest  everywhere  ! 
We  will  not  submit  to  it  j  like  the  Irish,  getting  the  priest 
into  every  social  relation  j  taking  his  advice  in  every  thing ; 
acting  under  his  counsel  in  every  thing.  We  will  not  submit 
to  be  a  priest-ridden  people.  We  will  not  submit  to  have  the 
priest  near  us  at  all,  outside  of  his  church.  If  he  stays  there, 
well  and  good  :  if  not,  every  one  can  do  as  he  likes."  For 
the  last  century  all  the  Catholic  nations  of  Europe — in  fact, 
the  whole  world — have,  more  or  less,  acted  upon  this  principle. 
Let  us  see  the  advantage  of  all  this.  Have  th^  world,  society, 
governments,  legislatures,  gained  by  it  ?  To  the  Church  they 
say  :  "  Stand  aside  ;  don't  presume  to  come  into  the  Senate  or 
the  Parliament.  We  will  make  laws  without  you.  Don't  be 
preaching  to  me  about  God  ;  I  can  get  along  without  you." 
The  world  has  "  got  along"  for  some  hundreds  of  years ;  and 
it  has  produced  only  that  beautiful  man  I  have  described  to 
you — the  man  of  the  day — the  accomplished  man — the  gentle- 
man— the  man  in  kid  gloves — the  man  who  is  well  dressed — 


THE  CHEISTIAN  MAN  THE  MAN  OF  THE  DAY.      19 

the  man  with  the  gemmed  walch  and  gold  chain — the  man 
with  the  lacquered  hair  and  well-trimmed  whisker.  Do  not 
trust  his  word — he  is  a  liar !  Do  not  trust  him.  Oh,  fathers, 
oh,  children,  do  not  have  any  thing  to  say  to  him  !  He  is  a 
bad  man.  Keep  away  from  him.  Close  the  doors  of  your  gov- 
ernment-house— of  your  House  of  Representatives — against 
him.  This  is  the  man  whom  the  Church  knows  not  as  of  her ; 
whom  the  world  and  whom  society  have  to  fear.  If  this  is 
the  best  thing  that  the  world  has  created,  surely  it  ought  to 
be  proud  of  its  offspring !  Society  lives  and  can  only  live  up- 
on the  purity  that  pervades  the  domestic  circle  and  sanctifies 
it ;  upon  the  trathfulness  and  integrity  that  guard  all  the 
social  relations  of  life  and  sanctify  them ;  and  upon  the  pure 
and  disinterested  love  of  country  upon  which  alone  true 
patriotism  depends.  Stand  aside,  man  of  the  day  !  You  are 
unfit  for  these  things.  Stand  aside,  0  simulacrum !  O 
counterfeit  of  man,  stand  aside  !  Thou  art  not  fit  to  encumber 
this  earth.  Where  is  the  truthfulness  of  thy  intellect,  thou 
scoffer  at  all  religion  1  Where  is  the  purity  of  thy  heart,  thou 
faithless  husband  ?  Where  is  the  honesty  of  thy  life,  thou 
pilfering  politician  ?  Stand  aside !  If  we  have  nothing 
better  than  you,  we  must  come  to  ruin.  Stand  forth,  O 
Christian  man,  and  let  us  see  what  we  can  make  of  thee ! 
Hast  thou  principles,  0  Christian  man?  He  advances,  and 
says :  "  My  first  principle  is  this :  that  the  Almighty  God 
created  me  responsible  for  every  wilful  thought,  and  word, 
and  act  of  my  life.  I  believe  in  that  responsibility  before 
God.  I  believe  that  these  thoughts,  and  words,  and  acts 
shall  be  my  blessedness  or  my  damnation  for  eternity."  These 
are  the  first  principles  of  the  Christian  man.  Give  me  a  man 
that  binds  up  eternity  with  his  thoughts,  and  his  words,  and 
his  acts  of  to-day :  I  warrant  you  he  will  be  very  careful  how 
he  thinks,  how  he  speaks,  and  how  he  acts.  I  will  trust  that 
man,  because  he  does  not  love  honesty  for  the  sake  of  man, 
but  for  the  love  of  his  own  soul ;  not  for  the  love  of  the  world, 
but  for  the  love  of  God.  Stand  forth,  O  Christian  man,  and 
tell  us  what  are  thy  principles  in  thy  domestic  relations,  which, 
as  father  and  husband,  thou  hast  assumed.  He  comes  forth 
and  says  :  ''I  believe, — and  ]  believe  it  on  the  peril  of  my 
eternal  salvation, — that  I  must  be  as  true  in  my  thought  and 
in  my  act  to  the  woman  whom  I  made  my  wife,  as  you,  a 
priest,  are  to  the  altar  of  Christ.     I  believe  that,  as  long  as 


20  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

the  Angel  of  Death  comes  not  between  me  and  that  woman, 
she  is  to  be  the  queen  of  my  heart,  the  mother  and  mistress 
of  my  household  5  and  that  no  power,  save  the  hand  of  God, 
can  separate  us,  or  break  the  tie  that  binds  us." 

Well  said,  thou  faithful  Christian  man !  Well  said !  Tell 
us  about  thy  relations  to  thy  children.  The  Christian  man 
answers  and  says :  "  I  believe  and  I  know  that,  if  one  of 
these  children  rises  up  in  judgment  against  me,  and  cries  out 
neglect  and  bad  education  and  bad  example  against  me,  that 
that  alone  wall  weigh  me  down  and  cast  me  into  hell  for  ever." 
Well  said,  0  Christian  father !  You  are  the  man  of  the  day 
so  far.  With  you  the  domestic  hearth  and  circle  will  remain 
holy.  When  your  shadow,  after  your  day's  labor,  falls 
across  your  humble  threshold,  it  is  the  shadow  of  a  man  lov- 
ing the  God  of  all  fidelity,  and  of  all  sanctity,  in  his  soul. 
What  are  your  relations  to  your  friends,  0  Chiistian  man  ? 
He  answers :  "  I  love  my  friend  in  Christ,  my  Lord ;  I  believe 
that  when  I  speak  of  my  friend,  or  of  my  fellow-man,  every 
word  I  utter  goes  forth  into  eternity,  there  to  be  registered  for  or 
against  me,  as  true  or  false.  I  believe  that  when  my  friend, 
or  neighbor,  and  fellow-man,  is  in  want  or  in  misery,  and  that 
he  sends  forth  the  cry  for  consolation  or  for  relief,  I  am  bound 
to  console  him,  or  to  relieve  him,  as  if  I  saw  my  Lord  him- 
self lying  prostrate  and  helpless  before  me."  Who  are  thy 
enemies,  0  man  of  faith  ?  He  answers :  "  Enemies  I  have 
none."  Do  you  not  hold  him  as  an  enemy  who  harms  you  ? 
"No,  I  see  him  in  my  own  sin,  and  in  the  bleeding  hands 
and  open  side  of  my  Saviour ;  and  whatever  I  see  there  I 
must  love  in  spite  of  all  injustice."  What  are  your  political 
reiations?  He  answ^ers  and  says:  "If  any  one  says  of  an- 
other, he  is  a  man  who  fattened  upon  corruption,  no  man  can 
say  so  of  me.  I  entered  into  the  arena  of  my  country's  ser- 
vice, and  came  forth  with  unstained  hands.  Whatever  I 
have  done,  I  have  done  for  love  of  my  country ;  because  ray 
country  holds  upon  me  the  strongest  and  highest  claims,  after 
those  of  God."  Heart  and  mind  are  there.  Oh,  how  grand 
is  the  character  that  is  thus  built  upon  Faith  and  Love ! 
How  grand  is  this  man,  so  faithful  at  home,  so  truthful 
abroad,  so  in^eproachable  in  the  senate  or  the  forum  !  Where 
shall  we  find  him  I  I  answer,  the  Catholic  Church  alone  can 
produce  him.  This  is  a  bold  assertion.  I  do  not  deny  that  he 
may  exist  outside  the  Catholic  Church ;  but  if  he  does  it  is  as 


THE  CHRISTIAN  MAN  THE  MAN  OF  THE  DAT.      21 

an  exception ;  and  the  exception  only  proves  the  rule.  I  do 
not  deny  much  of  what  I  have  said,  if  not  all,  to  that  glorious 
name  that  shall  live  for  ever  as  the  very  type  of  patriotism, 
and  honor,  and  virtue,  and  truth, — the  grand,  the  majestic, 
the  immortal  name  of  George  Washington,  the  Father  of  his 
country.  But,  just  as  a  man  may  find  a  rare  and  beautiful 
flower,  even  in  the  field,  or  by  the  roadside,  and  he  is  sur- 
prised and  says,  "  How  came  it  to  be  here  ?  How  came  it 
to  grow  here?"  when  he.  goes  into  the  garden,  the  cul- 
tivated spot,  he  finds  it  as  a  matter  of  course,  because  the 
soil  was  prepared  for  it,  and  the  seed  was  so^vn.  There  is  no 
surprise,  no  astonishment,  to  find  the  man  of  whom  I  speak — 
the  Christian  man — in  the  Catholic  Church.  If  you  want  to 
find  him,  as  a  matter  of  course — if  you  want  to  find  the 
agencies  that  produce  him — if  you  want  to  find  the  soil 
lie  must  grow  in,  if  he  grows  at  all,  you  must  go  into  the 
Catholic  Church,  decidedly.  Nowhere  out  of  the  Catholic 
Church  is  the  bond  of  matrimony  indissoluble.  In  the 
Catholic  Church,  the  greatest  rufiian,  the  most  depraved  man 
that  ever  lived,  the  most  faithless  woman  that  ever  cursed  the 
world,  if  they  are  faithless  to  every  thing,  they  must  remain 
joined  by  the  adamantine  bonds  that  the  Church  will  not 
allow  any  man  to  break. 

Secondly,  the  only  security  you  have  for  all  I  have  spoken 
of  as  enriching  man  in  his  social  and  political  relations,  is 
in  conscience.  If  a  man  has  no  conscience,  he  can  have  no 
truth  :  he  loses  his  power  of  discerning  the  difierence  be- 
tween truth  ar^d  falsehood.  If  a  man  has  no  conscience,  he 
loses  all  knowledge  and  all  sense  of  sin.  If  a  man  has  no 
conscience,  he  loses  by  degrees  even  the  very  abstract  ftiith 
that  there  is  for  good  in  him.  Conscience  is  a  most  precious 
gift  of  God  ;  but,  like  every  other  faculty  in  the  soul  of  man, 
unless  it  be  exercised,  it  dies  out.  The  conscience  of  man 
must  be  made  a  living  tribunal  within  him,  and  he  must 
bring  his  own  soul  and  his  own  life  before  that  tribunal.  A 
man  may  kneel  down  and  pray  to  God ;  he  may  listen  to 
the  voice  of  the  preacher  attentivel}^,  seriously ;  but  in  the 
Catholic  Church  alone  there  is  one  Sacrament,  and  that 
Sacrament  the  most  frequent,  and  the  most  necessary,  after 
Baptism, — and  that  is  the  Sacrament  of  Penance ;  the  going 
to  confession  ;  an  obligation  imposed  under  pain  of  mortal  sin, 
and  of  essential  need  to  every  Catholic  at  stated  times :  an 


22  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

obligation  that  no  Catliolic  can  shrink  from  without  covering 
himself  with  sin.  This  is  at  once  a  guarantee  for  the  existence 
of  a  conscience  in  a  man,  and  a  restraining  power,  which  is 
the  very  test,  and  the  cracial  test,  of  a  man's  life.  A 
Catholic  may  sin,  like  other  men  ;  he  may  be  false  in  every 
relation  of  Hfe  ;  he  may  be  false  in  the  domestic  circle ;  he 
rnay  be  false  socially  j  he  may  be  false  politically  ;  but  one 
thing  you  may  be  sure  of, — that  he  either  does  not  go  to  con- 
fession at  all,  or,  if  he  goes  to  confession,  and  comes  to  the 
holy  altai"^  there  is  an  end  to  his  falsehood,  there  is  an  end  to 
his  sin ;  and  the  whole  world  around  him,  in  the  social  cu'cle, 
the  domestic  cu'cle,  the  political  circle,  receives  an  absolute 
guarantee,  an  absolute  proof,  that  that  man  must  be  all  that 
I  have  described  the  Christian  man  to  be, — a  man  in  w4iom 
every  one,  in  every  relation  of  life,  may  trust  and  confide. 
This  is  the  test.  Do  not  speak  to  me  of  Catholics  who  do  not 
give  us  this  test.  When  a  Catholic  does  not  go  to  the 
Sacraments,  I  could  no  more  trust  in  him  than  in  any  other 
man.  I  say  to  you,  do  not  talk  to  me  about  Catholics  who 
do  not  go  to  the  Sacraments.  I  have  nothing  to  say  of  them, 
only  to  pray  for  them,  to  preach  to  them,  and  to  beseech 
them  to  come  to  this  holy  Sacrament,  where  they  will  find 
grace  to  enable  them  to  live  up  to  the  principles  w^hich  they 
had  forsaken.  But  give  me  the  practical,  intellectual  Catholic 
man,  the  man  of  faith  :  give  me  the  man  of  human  power 
and  intelligence,  and  the  higher  power,  divine  principle,  and 
divine  love.  With  that  man,  as  with  the  lever  of  Ai'chi- 
medes,  I  will  move  the  world. 

Let  me  speak  to  you,  in  conclusion,  of  such  a  man.  Let 
me  speak  to  you  of  one  whose  form,  as  I  beheld  it  in 
early  youth,  now  looms  up  before  me ;  so  fills,  in  imagi- 
nation, the  halls  of  my  memory,  that  I  behold  him  now 
as  I  beheld  him  years  ago ;  majestic  in  statm'e,  an  eye 
gleaming  with  intellectual  power,  a  mighty  hand  uplifted, 
waving,  quivering  with  honest  indignation  j  his  voice  thun- 
dering like  the  voice  of  a  god  in  the  tempest,  against 
all  injustice  and  all  dishonor.  I  speak  of  L'eland's 
greatest  son,  the  immortal  Daniel  O'Connell.  He  came, 
and  found  a  nation  the  most  faithful,  the  most  generous  on 
the  face  of  the  earth ;  he  found  a  people  not  deficient  in  any 
power  of  human  intelligence  or  human  courage  ;  chaste  iu 
their  domestic  relations,  reliable  to  each  other,  and  truthful  j 


THE  CHRISTIAN  MAN  THE  MAN  OF  THE  DAY.      23 

and,  above  all,  a  people  who,  for  centuries  and  centuries,  had 
lived,  and  died,  and  suffered  to  uphold  the  faith  and  the 
Cross.  He  came,  and  he  found  that  people,  after  the  re- 
bellion of  '98,  down-trodden  in  the  blood-stained  dust,  and 
bound  in  chains.  The  voice  of  Ireland  was  silent.  The 
heart  of  the  nation  was  broken.  Every  privilege,  civil  and 
otherwise,  was  taken  from  them.  They  were  commanded,  as 
the  only  condition  of  the  toleration  of  their  existence,  to  lie 
down  in  their  blood-stained  fetters  of  slavery,  and  to  be  grate- 
ful to  the  hand  that  only  left  them  life.  He  brought  to  that 
prostrate  people  a  Christian  spirit  and  a  Christian  soul.  He 
brought  his  mighty  faith  in  God  and  in  God's  holy  Church. 
He  brought  his  great  human  faith  in  the  power  of  justice, 
and  in  the  omnipotence  of  right.  He  roused  the  people  fi'om 
their  lethargy.  He  sent  the  cry  for  justice  throughout  the 
land,  and  he  proved  his  own  sincerity  to  Ireland  and  to  her 
cause,  by  laying  down  an  income  of  sixty  thousand  pounds  a 
year,  that  he  might  enter  into  her  service.  He  showed  the 
people  the  true  secret  of  their  strength  himself.  One  day 
thundering  for  justice  in  the  halls  of  the  English  Senate,  on 
the  moiTow  morning  he  was  seen  in  the  confessional,  and 
kneeling  at  the  altar  to  receive  his  God:  with  one  hand 
leaning  upon  the  eternal  cause  of  God's  justice ;  with  the  other 
leaning  upon  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Upheld  by  these  and 
by  the  power  of  his  own  genius,  he  left  his  mark  upon  his 
age  :  he  left  his  mark  upon  his  country.  This  was,  indeed, 
the  "  Man  of  his  Day  !"  the  Christian  man,  of  whom  the 
world  stood  in  awe — faithful  as  a  husband  and  father  j  faith- 
ful as  a  friend ;  the  delight  of  all  who  knew  him  j  faitli- 
ful  in  his  disinterested  labors ;  with  an  honorable,  honest 
spirit  of  self-devotion  in  his  country's  cause  !  He  raised  that 
prostrate  fomi,  he  struck  the  chains  from  those  virgin  arms, 
and  placed  upon  her  head  a  crown  of  fi'ee  worship  and 
free  education.  He  made  Ireland  to  be,  in  a  great  measure, 
what  he  always  prayed  and  hoped  she  might  be,  "  The 
Queen  of  the  Western  Isles,  and  the  proudest  gem  that 
the  Atlantic  bears  upon  the  surface  of  its  green  waters." 
Oh,  if  there  were  a  few  more  like  him !  Oh,  that  our  race 
would  produce  a  few  more  like  him !  Om*  O'Connell  was 
Irish  of  the  Irish,  and  Catholic  of  the  Cathohc.  We  are 
Irish  and  we  are  Catholic.  How  is  it  we  have  not  more 
men   like  him?     Is  the  stamina  wantinfi:   to   us?     Is   the 


24  FA  THEE  B  USEE'S  DISCO  UESES. 

intellect  wanting  to  us?  Is  the  power  of  united  expres- 
sion in  the  interests  of  society  wanting  to  us  ?  No.  But 
the  religious  Irishman  of  our  day  refuses  to  be  educated ; 
and  the  educated  Irishman  of  to-day  refuses  to  be  religious. 
These  two  must  go  hand  in  hand.  Unite  the  highest 
education  with  the  deepest  and  tenderest  practical  love  of 
God  and  of  your  religion,  and  I  see  before  me,  in  many  of 
the  young  faces  on  which  I  look,  the  stamp  of  our  Irish 
genius.  I  see  before  me  many  who  may  be  the  fathers  and 
legislators  of  the  Republic,  the  leaders  of  our  race,  and  the 
heroes  of  our  common  country  and  our  common  religion. 


THE   CATHOLIC   CHURCH   THE   FOSTER- 
MOTHER   OF   LIBERTY. 

lA   Lecture  delivered  by  the    Very  Bev.  T.   N.    BurTce,   O.P.,  in    St. 
Paul's  Church,  Brooklyn,  March  3,  1872. 

My  Friexds  :  On  last  Tuesday  evening,  wlien  I  had  the 
honor  of  addressing  yon,  I  proposed  to  you  a  subject  for  ypur 
consideration  which,  perliaps,  may  have  struck  a  good  many 
among  you  as  strange.  We  are  such  worshippers  of  this  age 
of  ours,  that  when  the  "  man  of  the  day,"  as  he  is  called,  is 
put  before  us  in  an^^  other  than  an  amiable  light,  no  matter 
how  true  it  may  be,  it  seems  strange.  It  is  a  hazardous 
thing  for  me  to  attempt ; — and  there  are  many  among  you 
that  will  consider  the  thing  I  have  undertaken  to  do  this 
evening  a  still  more  hazardous  attempt — namely,  to  prove  to 
you  that  the  Catholic  Cluu'ch  is  the  foster-motlier  of  human 
liberty.  Was  there  ever  so  strange  a  proposition  heard  "I — 
the  Catholic  Church  the  mother  of  human  liberty  !  If  I 
undertook  to  prove  that  the  Catholic  Church  was  the  in- 
strument chosen  by  Almighty  God  to  save  Christianity,  I 
might  do  it  on  the  testimony  of  Protestant  historians.  I 
might  quote,  for  instance,  Guizot,  the  French  statesman  and 
historian,  who  repeatedly  and  emphatically  asserts  that  only 
for  the  organization  of  bishops,  priests,  monks,  etc., — what  is 
called  "  the  Church," — the  Christian  religion  would  never 
have  been  preserved ;  never  have  been  able  to  sustain  the 
shock  of  the  incursions  of  the  barbarians  of  the  North  upon 
the  Roman  Empire  ;  and  never  liave  been  preserved  through 
the  following  ages  of  confusion,  and,  some  people  say,  of 
darkness.  I  could  quote  the  great  German  historian,  Neander, 
who  was  not  only  a  Protestant,  but  bitterly  opposed  to  the 
Catliolic  Church,  and  who  repeats,  again  and  again,  the  self- 
same proposition  :  "  Were  it  not,"  he  says,  "  for  the  Church, 
the  Christian  religion  must  have  perished  during  the  time 
that  elapsed  between  the  fiftli  and  the  tenth  centuries."  I 
might,  I  say  again,  find  it  easy  to  prove  any  one  of  these 
})rop()siti(uis,  witli  less  fear  of  cavil.  Ah,  but  this  is  quite 
another  thing,  you  will  say  in  your  own  minds!     This  man 


26  FATHER  BUEKE'S  DISCOUBSES. 

tells  us  that  he  is  prepared  to  prove  that  the  Catholic  Churcli 
is  the  foster-mother  of  human  liberty.  Why,  the  "  man  of  the 
day,"  whom  we  were  considering  on  a  previous  evening,  is  not 
a  very  amiable  character.  He  has  a  great  many  vices  ',  there 
are  a  great  many  moral  deformities  about  him — this  boasted 
man  of  the  nineteenth  century.  But  there  is  one  thing  that  he 
lays  claim  to:  he  says, — and  he  claims  that  it  is  something 
which  no  man  can  gainsay, — that  he  is  a  fi-eeman ;  that 
he  is  not  like  those  men  who  lived  in  the  ages  when  the 
Catholic  Church  had  power,  when  she  was  enabled  to  enforce 
her  laws.  ^^  Then,  indeed,"  he  says,  "  men  were  slaves ; 
but  now,  whatever  our  faults  may  be.  we  have  freedom. 
Kay,  more,"  he  will  add,  "  we  have  freedom  in  spite  of  the 
Catholic  Church.  We  are  free  because  we  have  succeeded  in 
disanuing  the  Catholic  Church  ;  in  taking  the  power  out  of  her 
hands.  We  are  free  because  our  legislation  and  the  spirit  of 
our  age  is  hostile  to  the  Catholic  Church.  How  then,  JMonk, 
do  you  presume  to  come  here  and  tell  us,  the  men  of  the 
day,  that  this  Church  of  yours — this  Church  whose  very  name 
we  associate  with  the  idea  of  intellectual  slavery — that  she  is 
the  foster-mother  of  human  liberty  ?  " 

Well,  I  need  not  tell  you,  my  friends,  that  there  is  nothing 
easier  than  to  make  assertions ;  that  there  is  nothing  easier 
than  to  proclaim  such  and  such  things ;  lay  them  down  as  if 
.they  were  the  law  ;  tumble  it  out  as  if  it  was  gospel.  It  may 
be  a  lie.  Out  with  it.  Assert  it  strongly.  Repeat  it.  Do 
not  let  it  be  put  down.  Assert  it  again  and  again.  Even 
though  it  be  a  lie,  a  gi'cat  many  people  will  believe  it.  No- 
thing is  easier  than  to  make  assertions  without  thinking  well 
on  what  we  say.  Now,  let  me  ask  you  this  evening  to  do 
what  very  few  men  in  this  age  of  ours  do  at  all ;  and  that  is, 
to  reflect  a  little.  It  is  simply  astonishing,  considering  the 
powers  that  God  has  given  to  man, — the  power  of  thought,  the 
power  of  reflection,  the  power  of  analyzing  facts  and  weighing 
statements,  the  power  of  reducing  things  to  their  first  principles, 
— I  say  it  is  astonishing  to  think  of  that  and  to  look  around  us 
and  see  how  few  the  men  are  who  reason  at  all, — who  reflect, 
— who  take  time  for  thought ;  how  many  there  are  who  use 
words  of  which  they  do  not  know  the  meaning.  Take,  for 
instance,  that  word  '' liberty."  I  need  hardly  tell  yon  that  I 
must  explain  it  to  you  before  I  advance  the  proposition  that 
the  Catholic  Church  is  the  mother  o-f  liberty. 


TUE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  LIBERTY.  27 

What  is  tlie  meaning  of  the  word  "  liberty," — so  dear  to 
ns  air?  We  are  always  boasting  of  it;  the  patriot  is  always 
aspiring  to  it ;  the  revolutionist  makes  it  justify  all  his  wiles 
and  all  his  conspiracies.  It  is  the  word  that  floats  upon  the 
folds  of  the  nation's  banners,  as  they  are  flung  out  npon  the 
breeze  over  the  soldier's  head ;  and  he  is  cheered  in  his  last 
moments  by  the  sacred  sound  of  liberty !  It  is  a  word  dear  to 
lis  jil]^ — the  boast  of  all  of  ns.  What  is  the  boast  of  America'? 
That  it  is  the  Land  of  Freedom.  Yes;  but  I  ask  you,  do  you 
know  what  it  means!  Liberty  !  Just  reflect  npon  it  a  little. 
Does  liberty  mean  freedom  from  restraint?  Does  liberty,  in 
your  mind,  mean  freedom  from  any  power,  government,  or 
restraint  of  legislati(m  I  Is  this  your  meaniug  of  liberty  I 
For  instance :  Is  this  yonr  meaning  of  liberty — that  every 
man  can  do  what  he  likes  ?  If  so,  you  cannot  complain  if 
you  are  stopped  by  the  robber  on  the  roadside,  and  he  puts 
iiis  pistol  to  your  head  and  says:  ^^  Your  money  or  your  life  !" 
l^ou  cannot  complain  ;  he  is  only  using  his  liberty  in  doing 
what  he  likes.  Does  liberty  mean  that  the  murderer  may 
come  and  put  his  knife  into*^you1  Does  liberty  ruean  that 
the  dishonest  man  is  to  })e  allowed  to  pilfer'?  Is  this  liberty"? 
This  is  freedom  from  restraint.  But  is  it  liberty  ?  j\[ost  cer- 
tainly not.  You  will  not  consider  that  you  are  slaves  be- 
cause you  live  under  laws  that  tell  you  that  you  must  not 
steal;  "^that  you  must  not  murder;  that  you  must  not  interfere 
with  or  violate  each  other's  riglits  ;  but  that  you  must  respect 
those  of  each  other;  and  if  you  do  hot  do  that,  you  must  be 
punished.  You  do  not  consider  you  are  slaves  because  you 
are  under  the  restraint  of  law.  Whatever  liberty  means, 
therefore,  it  does  not,  in  its  true  meaning,  imply  siuiple  and 
mere  freedom  from  restraint.  Yet,  how  many  there  are  who 
use  this  word,  and  who  attach  this  meaning  to  it.  What  is 
liberty?  There  are  in  man — in  the  soul  of  man — two  great 
powers, — God-like,  angelic,  sjHritual, — viz. :  the  intelligence 
of  the  mind  and  the  will.  The  intelligence  of  the  human 
mind,  the  soul,  and  the  will  are  the  true  fountains  and  the 
seat-  of  liberty.  What  is  the  freedom  of  the  intelligence  ? 
What  is  the  freedom  of  the  will  ?  ^There  are  no  other  powers 
in  man  capable  of  this  freedom  excej)t  these  two.  If  you  ask 
nie  in  what  does  the  freedom  of  the  intelligence  and  of  the 
will  of  man  consist,  I  answer:  The  freedom  of  tlie  intellect  con- 
sists in  being  free  from  error, — from  intellectual  error.     The 


28  FATHER  BVRKWS  DISCOURSES. 

freedom  of  man's  intelligence  consists  in  its  being  perfectly 
free  from  tlic  clanger  and  liability  of  believing  tliat  wliich 
is  false.  The  slavery  of  tlie  intelligence  in  man  is  submission 
in  mind  and  in  belief  to  that  Avlncli  is  a  lie.  If,  for  instance, 
I  came  here  this  evening,  and  if,  by  the  power  of  language, 
by  plausibility  of  words,  by  persuasiveness,  I  got  any  man 
among  you  to  believe  a  lie,  and  take  that  lie  as  truth  and 
admit  it  into  his  mind  as  truth,  and  admit  it  as  a  principle 
that  is  right,  and  just,  and  true,  when  it  is  false,  and  -unjust, 
and  a  lie, — that  man  is  intellectually  a  slave.  Falsehood  is 
the  slavery  of  the  intelligence. 

Reflect  a  little  upon  this.  It  is  well  worth  reflecting  upon. . 
It  is  a  truth  that  is  not  grasped  or  held  by  the  men  of  this 
century  of  ours.  There  w^as  a  time  when  it  was  considered 
a  disreputable  thing  to  believe  a  lie.  There  was  a  time  when 
men  were  ashamed  of  believing  what,  even  by  possibility, 
could  be  a  lie.  Nowadays,  men  glory  in  it.  It  was  but  a 
short  time  ago  a  popular  orator  and  lecturer  in  England 
referred  to  the  multitude  of  religious  sects  that  are  there — 
of  those  people  who  assert  that  Christ  is  God,  and  of  those 
who  assert  that  He  is  not  God;  of  those  who  assert  that 
there  are  three  persons  in  the  Trinity,  and  of  those  who  assert 
that  there  is  no  Trinity — the  Unitarians  ;  of  those  who  assert 
that  good  works  are  necessary  for  salvation,  and  of  those 
who  assert  that  good  works  are  not  necessary  at  all ;  of  those 
Avho  assert  that  Christ  is  present  on  the  altar,  and  of  those 
who  say  it  is  damnable  heresy  to  assert  that  He  is  there  at 
all  ] — speaking  of  all  these, — how,  we  ask,  can  any  one  of 
them  be  true  and  all  the  rest  not  be  false  I  This  lecturer 
said :  "  The  multitude  of  sects  and  churches  in  England  is 
the  glory  of  our  age  and  of  our  people ;  for  it  shows  what  a 
religious  people  we  are."  My  God  !  A  man  believes  a  lie ; 
a  man  takes  a  lie  to  him  as  if  it  were  the  truth  of  God  j  a 
man  takes  an  intellectual  falsehood — a  thing  that  is  false  in 
itself — a  thing  that  has  no  real  existence  in  fact — a  thing 
that  God  never  said,  and  never  thought  of  saying ;  and  he 
lays  that  religious  lie  upon  tlie  altar  of  his  soul,  and  he  bows 
down  and  does  homage  to  it  as  if  it  were  the  truth ! 
And  then  he  says  :  "  It  may  be  a  lie  !  but  you  know  it 
is  a  religious  lie  ;  and  it  is  so  respectable  and  religious 
to  have  a  nmltitude  of  sects  ;  and  it  shows  what  a  good 
people  we  are  !  "      This  is  our  age.     The  very  definition  of 


THE  CHUFCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  LIBERTY.  29 

the  intellectual  freedom  of  man,  which  I  am  about  to 
give  you,  I  take  from  the  hig-hetft  authority.  I  A\ill  not 
quote  for  you,  my  friends,  the  words  of  man  ;  but  I  will 
quote  to  you  the  Word  of  God — of  God  himself — who  ought 
to  know  l)est ;  of  God  himself,  who  made  man  and  gave  him 
his  intelligence  and  his  freedom — of  God  himself,  who  has 
declared  that  the  freedom  of  the  human  intellect  lies  in  the 
possession  of  the  truth — the  knowledge  of  the  truth — the 
grasping  of  the  truth — the  exclusion,  by  that  very  fact,  of 
all  error.  Christ,  our  Lord,  said  : — "  You  shall  know  the 
truth  and  the  truth  shall  make  you  free."  You  shall  know" 
the  truth,  and,  in  the  knowledge  of  that  truth,  will  lie  your 
freedom.  Mind  3'ou,  He  did  not  say  :  "  I  will  send  you 
groping  after  the  truth."  No  !  But  you  shall  know  it-^j^ou 
shall  have  it — no  doubt  about  it !  He  did  not  say  :  "  Here 
is  a  book  ;  here  is  My  word ;  take  it  and  look  for  the  truth 
in  it,  and  if  you  happen  to  find  it,  well  and  good  ;  if  not,  you 
are  still  a  religious  man  !''  He  did  not  say  :  ^'  Your  duty  is 
to  seek  for  the  truth,  to  look  for  itj"  no,  but  He  said  :  "  You 
shall  have  it,  and  you  shall  know  it ;  and  th'at  shall  make 
your  freedom  5  the  truth  shall  make  you  free!"  I  lay  it 
down,  therefore,  as  a  first  principle,  that  the  very  definition 
of  intellectual  freedom  lies  in  the  possession  of  the  truth. 

Now,  my  friends,  before  I  go  any  further,  I  may  as  well 
at  once  come  home  to  my  subject,  and  that  is,  that  the 
Catholic  Church  alone  is  the  foster-mother  of  intellectual 
freedom.  Afterwards  we  will  come  to  the  freedom  of  the 
will.  We  M'ill  ask  what  it  is,  and  apply  the  same  principles 
in  answering  it.  There  is  in  the  Catholic  Church  a  power 
which  she  has  always  exercised ;  and,  strange  to  say,  it  is 
the  very  exercise  of  that  power  which  forms  the  world's  chief 
accusation  against  her.  And  that  is,  the  power  of  defining, 
as  articles  of  faith  and  dogma — as  what  we  are  to  believe 
beyond  all  doubt,  all  cavil,  beyond  all  speculation,  what  she 
holds  and  knows  to  be  true.  There  is  this  distinguishing 
feature  between  the  Catholic  Church  and  all  sects  that  call 
themselves  religious, — that  she  always  speaks  clearly. 
Every  child  that  belongs  to  her,  every  man  that  hears  her 
voice,  knows  precisely  wliat  to  believe,  knows  precisely  what 
the  Church  teaches.  Never  does  she  leave  a  soul  in  doubt. 
What  can  be  more  striking  than  the  contrast  which  Protest- 
antism presents  to  the  Catholic  Church  in  this  respect, — its 


?,0  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

leaders  lost  in  utter  perplexity,  not  knowing  what  to  say. 
Some  time  ago  a  deputation  of  clergymen  of  the  Church  of 
Enghand  waited  upon  the  Arclibishop  of  Canterbury,  and 
propounded  a  very  simple  question,  indeed,  to  him :  viz., — 
Whether   the    Protestant   Church   allowed  its   ministers,  or 
taught  them,  to  preach  their  sermons,  with  surplices  on,  or 
without.     Well,  there  was  not  much  in  that :   about  half  a 
3'ard  of  calico  was  all  of  it ;   the  most  of  it  was  not  as  much 
as  would  make  a  surplice  for  a  little  boy.     They  came  and 
asked  the  Archbishop  if  he  would  kindly  tell  them  what 
w^as  the  discipline  of  the  Church.     The  Archbishop  knew 
and  remembered  very  well  that  there  was  a  party  in  England 
that  could  not  bear  to  see  a  surplice  on  a  clergyman.     The 
very  i^ight  of  such  a  thing  is  like  the  shaking  of  a  red  rag 
before  a  bull :   it  makes  them  mad.     It  is  a  singular  thing. 
Now,  when  you  come  in  here  to  your  deviations,  you  do  not 
mind  much  whether  the  alb  the  priest  wears  be  a  long  one 
or  a  short  one ;    whether  the  surplice  be  plain  or  embroid- 
ered ;   or  -whether  tlie  fringes  of  the  lace  are  long  or  short. 
But,  in  the  Protestant  Church,  in  England,  if  a  minister  goes 
up  before  a  certain  congregation  with  a  surplice  on,  one-half 
of  them  stand  up  and  walk  out  of  the  house.     The  Arch- 
bishop knew  this ;  he  also  knew  that  there  is  a  strong  party 
in  the  Protestant  Church  who  not  only  favor  surplices,  but 
would  like  to  see  all  kinds  of  vestments  worn.     Mournfully 
he  turns  round,  and  what  is  the'  answer  that  he  gives  ?     He 
answers  them  as  if  he  had  nothing  to  say,   as  if  there  was 
nothing  in  it.     What  was  the  answer  his  Grace  of  Canter- 
bury gave  ?     What  answer  do  you  suppose  he  gave  them  ? 
He  rubbed  his  hands— (I   don't  know  whether  he  took  a 
pinch  of  snufF  or  not) — ^but  he  rubbed  his  hands  and  said : 
"  It  was — a — really — a — a — a — very — serious  question  ;  that 
we  lived  in  times  when  the  Church  uses  a  caution  and  pru- 
dence that  was  most  admirable  and  most  necessary ; — that 
the  fact  of  it  is,  that  those  who  wear  surplices  in  performing 
the    functions  of  the    Church, — that,   no    doubt,  the}^  were 
actuated  by  the  purest  of  motives  and  the  best  of  feelings ; 
that  he  honored  them  ;  and  that,  in  fact,  he  felt  that,  accord- 
ing to  ch-cumstances,  the  surplice  might  be  worn  ;  and  that 
when  a   man   had   it  on   him — why — he   had   it   on   him ! 
There  was  no   mistake  about   it.     Then,    that  there  were 
others   who  did   hot  wear  surplices — and,  of    course,  as   to 


THE  CHURCR  THE  MOTHER  OF  LIBERTY.  31 

those  who  did  not  wear  them — why,  thoy  were  not  in  the 
habit  of  putting-  them  on  ;  and  that,  really,  he  must  say 
that,  on  this  question,  the  discipline  of  the  Church  was  such 
that  it  was  very  hard  precisely  to  say  whether  the  wearing 
of  a  surplice,  or  the  not  wearing-  of  a  surplice,  was  precisely 
the  most  convenient  j ''  and,  to  use  a  vulgar  phi'ase,  he  haui- 
boozjed  them, — and,  under  Heaven,  they  did  not  know  what 
he  meant.  One  minute  he  told  them  it  was  right ;  the  next 
minute  he  told  them  it  might  be  wrong.  And  that  on  the 
mere  question  of  a  surplice  !  The  Catholic  Church  comes 
out  on  a  question  affecting  the  existence  of  God ;  Heaven ; 
the  Revelation  of  Scripture  5  the  Divinity  of  Jesus  Christ. 
It  is  a  question  affecting  an  article  of  faith.  She  gives  to 
the  Church,  on  this  or  that  article  of  faith,  language  as  clear 
as  a  bell — language  so  clear  and  decided  that  every  child 
may  know  what  God  has  revealed ;  that  this  is  what  God 
teaches; — that  this  is  the  truth.  But  the  "Man  of  the 
Day  "  says  :  "  What  right  has  the  Church  to  impose  this  on 
you?  Are  y«)U  not  a  slave  to  believe  it?"  I  answer  at 
once  :  "  If  it  be  a  lie,  you  are  a  slave  to  believe  it.  If  it  be 
not  a  lie,  but  the  truth, — in  the  very  belief  of  it,  then, — in 
the  knowledge  of  it  lies  your  freedom,  according  to  the 
words  of  Christ :  '  You  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth 
shall  make  you  free.'  " 

The  whole  question  hinges  upon  this:  Has  the  Church 
the  power  and  the  authority  to  teach  you  what  is  the  truth? 
She  at  once  falls  bacl^  upon  the  Scriptures  and  lays  her 
hand  upon  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ,  saying — "  Go  and 
teach  all  nations  ;  teach  them  all  truth  :  I  will  send  the  Spirit 
of  truth  upon  you  to  abide  with  you,  and  I  Myself  will  be 
with-  you  all  days  to  the  end  of  the  w:orld ;  and  the  gates 
of  hell,  -that  is  to  say,  the  si)irit  of  error, — shall  never, 
never,  never  prevail  against  My  Church  !  "  If  that  be  true, 
the  whole  question  is  settled.  If  that  word  be  true — if  Jesus 
Christ  be  the  God  of  truth,  as  we  know  Him  to  be,  then  the 
whole  controversy  is  at  an  end.  He  commands  us  to  hear  the 
Church,  to  accept  her  teachings,  to  grasp  them,  being  the 
truth,  with  our  minds  as  though  we  heard  them  immediately 
fi-om  the  lips  of  our  Lord  God  Himself — who  is  the  very 
quintessence  of  truth  and  of  intellectual  freedom — for  intellec- 
tual freedom  lies  in  a  knowledge  of  the  truth.  And  now, 
let  me  give  you  a  familiar  proof  of  this.     Let  me  suppose, 


32  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

now,  that  instead  of  being  what  I  am — a  Catholic  priest  and 
a  monk — that  1  was — (God  between  us  and  harm  !) — a  Meth- 
odist, a  Presbyterian,  or  that  I  was  a  Baptist,  an  Anabaptist, 
or  any  thing  of  that  kind,  or  a  Quaker,  or  a  Shaker,  or  any 
thing  that  you  like.     And  suppose  that  I  came  here,  a  man  of 
a  certain  amount  of  intellect  and  originality,  and  that  I  had 
taken  up,  or  that  I  had  dreamt,  last  night,  some  crooked  view 
of  the  Scriptures,  and  that  I  said  in  my  own  mind :   "  Well, 
perhaps,  after  all,  Christ  did  not  die  on  the  cross ;  perhaps 
that  was  one  of  those  fictions  that  we  find  in  history  5"  and 
that  I  then  came  np  here,  on  this  altar,  and  put  that  lie  plausi- 
bly,— perhaps  dogmatically, — and  told  you  how  man}^  other 
lies  were  thus  told, — how  this  thing  thus  said  was  proved  to  be 
false,  and  that  that  thing  thus  said  was  proved  to  be  false  ; — 
and  that  then  I  said  to  you  :  ^'  What  evidence  have  we  of  the 
crucifixion  of  our  Lord  but  historical  evidence"?      Perhaps, 
after  all,  it  was  only  a  myth  f  "  When  we  look  into  ourselves, 
and  see  how  much  there  is  in  us  of  evil  and  how  little  of  good, 
and  then  think  of  Christ  coming  to  die  for  us  and  save  us  ! — 
indeed,  they  say,  there  is  a  question  whether  He  came  at  all 
or  not.     If  I  were  only  to  put  that  question  plausibly  to  you, 
what  is  to  hinder  me  from  deceiving  you  ?  What  is  to  hinder 
me,  if  I  am  able  to  do  it  eloquently  and  forcibly  ?  What  is  to 
save  some  of  you  from  being  imposed  upon,  and  some  of  you 
from  believing  me  ?     You  are  at  my  mercy.    So  far  as  I  can 
raise  a  doubt  in  j^our  minds,  I  can  put  an  intellectual  chain 
upon  you.     You  are  at  my  mercy ;  and  I  am  at  the  mercy  of 
my  own  idle  dreams.     Well,  let  us  take  things  as  they  are. 
I  came  here  as  a  Catholic  jDriest  to  you,  who  are  Catholics.  If 
I  were  here,  this  evening,  to  breathe  one  breath — one  word — 
against  the  real  presence  of  our  Lord, — or  against  the  infalli- 
bility of  the  Pope, — or  against  the   indefectibility  of   the 
Church, — or  against  the  power  of  the  priest  to  absolve  from 
sin, — or  any  other  doctrine  of  the  Catholic  Church  ; — if  I  was 
just  to  approach  it  with  the  faintest  touch; — is  there  a  man 
among  you — is  there  one  in  this  Chiu'ch — who  would  not  rise 
up  and  say  :  ^'  You  lie  !     You  are  a  heretic  !  You  are  a  false 
teacher  !     You  are  a  heathen  and  an  infidel !  "     If  I  dared  to 
do  it,  could  I  have  the  slightest  influence  on  any  one  of  you  ? 
No.     And    why?     Because    you    know    the    truth.     Why? 
Because  the  Church  of  God  has  thrown  the  shield  of  dogma 
between   you   and   every  false  teacher — between  you   and 


THE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  LIBERTY.  33 

every  one  -svlio  would  tiy  to  make  you  believe  a  lie.     Is  not 
tins  freedom  ? 

Some  time  ago,  a  poor  man  from  the  county  of  Galway — 
my  own  county — went  over  to  England,  to  earn  the  rent  by 
reaping  the  harvest.  He  went  down  into  the  southwest  ot' 
England — into  Gloucestershire.  And,  now,  you  must  know 
that  the  Protestants  of  that  part  of  England  are  what 
they  call  ^'  Puseyites," — men  who  are  fond  of  being  as  like 
Catholics  as  possible,  without  being  actually  Catholics. 
And  so  this  poor  fellow  went  in  one  Sunday  morning; — 
to  be  sure,  it  was  a  very  strange  place  in  which  he 
found  himself; — but  he  heard  the  bells  ring;  he  walked 
along ;  he  saw  a  cross  ;  he  saw,  as  he  supposed,  a  church  ; 
he  went  in,  and  (sure  enough)  saw  a  cross,  found  an  altar, 
and  the  candles  on  it ;  and  three  men — young  men — 
attending,  if  you  please,  on  the  altar.  There  were  a  priest, 
and  his  deacon,  and  sub-deacon,  and  a  congregation — all 
kneeling  down  as  the  service  went  on  ;  and  he  thought  he 
was  all  right.  He  knelt  down,  blessed  himself,  and  every 
thing  went  on  smoothly,  to  all  appearance  ;  and  the  mock 
Mass  went  on  until  the  time  came  for  the  priest  to  preach, 
and  the  deacons  and  sub-deacons  sat  down  in  their  chairs. 
The  priest  took  off  his  vestments  and  laid  aside  his  stole. 
He  then  blessed  himself.  There  were  many  distinguished 
personages  there — all  Pi'otestants.  In  his  beautiful  sermon 
he  called  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  the  mother  of  God. 
All  this  time  the  poor  Galway  man  was  beating  his  breast. 
Every  thing  went  off  delightfully  until  the  man  came  to  talk 
to  the  people  that  were  coming  in :  "  Now,"  said  he,  ^^  some 
of  you,  my  dear  brethren," — (he  was  an  elegant  English 
Protestant,  highly  educated) — "  Now,  my  dearly  beloved 
brethren,"  said  he,  •'  some  among  you,  no  doubt,  are  going 
to  approach  the  holy  communion  ; — of  course,  I  do  not  wish 
to  force  my  opinion  upon  you  ; — but  you  must  remember 
that  faith  is  required,  and  I  humbly  hope  that  as  many  of 
you  as  go  to  the  altar  will  believe  that  you  are  about  really 
to  receive  the  Lord.  I  do  not  want  to  say,  for  an  instant, 
that  this  is  absolutely  necessary,  or  that  I  put  it  upon  you 
under  the  awful  penalty  of  excomnmnication ;  but  still  I 
hope  you  will  ap})roach  it  in  the  right  faith."  "  God  bless 
my  soul !  "  said  the  poor  Galway  man ;  "  this  is  too  bad ! 
I  have  never  seen  the  like  of  this  before  ! "     So  he  stoops 


34  FATHER  BUREWS  DISCOURSES. 

down,  takes  np  liis  liat,  and  goes  for  tlie  door ;  for,  as  soon 
as  he  heard  the  hesitatino-,  faltering,  ahnost  apohjgetio 
assertion  of  the  preacher,  he  at  once  nnderstood  that  he  was 
in  a  Protestant  and  not  in  a  Catholic  Church.  When  he 
was  telling-  it  to  me,  he  said :  ''  Why,  your  reverence,  it  was 
only  when  he  got  to  the  end  of  the  sermon  that  he  let  the  cat 
out  of  the  hag  ! ''  Now,  I  ask  you  who  was  the  free  man  in 
that  church  ?  Was  it  not  the  man  whose  intelligence,  Immhle 
as  he  was,  uneducated  as  he  was  in  worldly  learning — but 
with  the  knowledge  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  his  soul — was 
it  not  he  whose  intelligence  instantly  rose  up,  rejected  the 
false  doctrine,  and  shook  off  the  slavery  of  the  lie  ? 

Need  I  say  any  more?  Before  I  end,  I  will  come  to 
vindicate  the  Church,  my  mother,  as  is  my  duty,  from  any 
charge  of  ever  fostering  slavery,  or  of  ever  riveting  one 
fetter  upon  the  intelligence  of  man.  But  I  think  I  have  so 
far  sufficiently  brought  it  home  to  the  intellect  of  every  one 
among  you  that,  if  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  the  possession 
of  the  truth,  the  grasping  of  the  truth,  creates  freedom  of 
the  intellect,  according  to  the  definition  of  it  by  the  word  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ, — that  man  alone  can 
have  that  freedom  who  receives  the  truth  knowing  it  to  be 
the  truth,  from  the  mouth  of  one  whom  Christ,  the  Son  of 
God,  declares  to  be  incapable  of  teaching  man  a  lie ! 

But  now  we  pass  to  the  second  great  stronghold  of  free- 
dom or  of  slavery  in  the  soul  of  man  ;  and  that  is,  the  will. 
For  you  know  that,  strictly  speaking,  the  will  of  man — 
that  free  will  that  God  gives  us  -  is  really  and  truly  the 
subject-matter  either  of  freedom  or  of  slavery.  If  a  man  has 
the  freedom  of  his  will,  he  is  free ;  if  a  man's  will  is  coerced, 
he  is  a  slave.  I  grant  you  that.  But  when  is  that  will 
coerced  ?  What  is  the  definition  of  the  word  "  freedom,"  so 
far  as  it  touches  human  will  ?  I  answer  at  once,  and  define 
the  freedom  of  the  human  will  to  be,  on  the  one  side, 
obedience  to  recognized  and  just  law,  and,  on  the  other  side, 
freedom  from  over-ruling  or  coercive  action  of  any  authority, 
or  of  any  power  that  is  not  legitimately  appointed  to  govern 
and  rule  the  will.  We  are  slaves,  if  we  are  bound  to  observe 
laws  that  are,  in  themselves,  unjust, — laws  that  involve  an 
immoral  act ;  and  no  man  but  a  slave  is  bound  to  obey 
them.  Thus,  for  instance,  if  the  law  of  the  land  tells  me 
that  what  I  have  heard  from  any  one  of  my  Catholic  children 


THE  CUVRCn  THE  MOTHER  OF  LIBERTY.  35 

ill  the  confessional,  I  am  to  go  and  make  a  deposition  of  it, 
that  is,  to  use  it  as  evi«lence  a<>:ainst  him — if  the  hiw  said 
that — (and  the  law  has  sometimes  said  it) — the  Catholic 
piiest  knows,  and  every  Catholic  knows,  that  the  observance 
of  that  law  would  make  a  slave  of  tlie  priest — it  would 
destroy  his  over-ruling  conscience  that  dictates  to  his  will; 
— so  that  if  he  observed  that  law  he  wouhl  be  a  slave  ;  but 
if  he  died  rather  than  observe  it,  he  would  be  a  martyr  and 
im  apostle  of  freedom. 

Secondly,  the  freedom  of  the  will  lies  in  being  free  from 
every  influence,  from  every  coercing  power  that  has  no  right 
or  title  whatever  to  command  our  wills,  AVho  has  a  right 
to  command  the  will  of  man  f  Almighty  God,  who  made  it. 
Every  human  law  that  tells  us,  do  this  or  do  that,  has 
authority  only  inasmuch  as  it  is  the  echo  of  the  eternal  voice, 
commanding  or  prohibiting.  I  will  only  obey  the  law 
l)ecause  St.  Paul  tells  us,  "the  law  comes  from  on  high" — 
that  all  power,  all  law,  comes  from  Almighty  God.  Any 
other  power  tliat  is  opposed  to  God,  any  ether  power  that 
upsets  the  reasons  of  God,  has  nothing  whatever  to  say  to 
the  will  of  man  ;  and  if  the  will  of  man  submits  to  the  per- 
suasion or  coercion  of  that  power,  by  that  very  fact  it 
becomes  a  slave. 

Now,  what  are  the  great  powers  that  assert  tliemselves  in 
this  our  age  upon  the  will  of  man  ?  What  are  the  great 
powers  that  make  slaves  of  us  ?  I  answer,  they  are  the 
world  around  us  and  its  principles  ; — our  own  passions  within 
us,  and  our  sinful  inclinations.  Reflect  upon  it.  We  live 
in  a  world  that  has  certain  principles,  that  lays  down  certain 
maxims  and  acts  upon  them.  The  world  has  its  own  code  of 
laws ;  the  world  has  its  own  sins,  greater  or  lesser.  For  in- 
stance, a  man  is  insulted.  The  world  tells  him  to  go,  take  a 
revolver,  and  wipe  out  the  insult  in  the  blood  of  the  man 
who  dares  to  insult  him.  This  is  the  world's  law  ;  but  it  i.Ji. 
opposed  to  God's  law,  which  says :  "  Love  your  en,emies, 
and  pardon  them  for  My  sake  ! '"'  The  world  says  to  a  man, 
''  Yi)U  are  in  a  good  position  ;  you  have  place,  power,  influence, 
patronage ;  you  have  it  in  your  power  to  enrich  yourself. 
Ah  !  don't  be  so  squeamish ;  don't  be  so  mealy-mouthed ; 
shove  a  friend  in  here.  Let  a  man  have  a  chance  of  taking 
upliis  own  pickings.  Put  another  man  to  do  the  same  there. 
Take  something  for  yourself,"     The  world  says  this  j  and  I 


36  FA  THER  B  URKKS  DISCO  UBSES. 

believe  you  have  evidence  of  it  every  day.  The  world  says 
to  the  man  of  pleasure  :  '■'■  You  are  fond  of  certain  sins  of  iin- 
purity.  Ah  !  but  my  dear  friend,  you  must  keep  that  thing 
very  quiet.  Keep  it  under  the  rose  as  long  as  you  can. 
There  is  no  great  harm  in  it.  It  is  only  the  weakness  of 
our  nature.  You  may  go  on  and  enjoy  yourself  as  much  as 
you  choose  ;  only  be  circumspect  about  it.  Keep  it  as  quiet 
as  possible,  and  do  not  let  your  secret  be  found  out." 
The  great  sin  is  in  being  found  out.  This  is  the  way  of  the 
w<»rld.  It  thus  operates  upon  men.  It  thus  influences  our 
will,  and  makes  us  bow  down  and  conform  to  the  manners 
and  customs  of  those  around  us.  How  true  this  is !  Is 
there  any  thing  more  common?  I  have  heard  it  said, 
over  and  over  again,  since  I  came  to  America  :  "  Oh,  Father, 
we  are  very  difi'erent  in  this  country  from  what  we  were  in 
the  old  country.  In  the  matter  of  going  to  Mass,  in  this  coun- 
try, on  Sunday,  you  cannot  go  unless  you  are  well  dressed. 
In  the  old  country  they  go  no  matter  how  they  are.  In  this 
country  people  would  look  on  it  as  queer  if  you  did  not  go  as 
well  dressed  as  your  neighbor.  In  the  old  country  they  were 
A'^ery  particular  about  stations,  and  about  going  to  confession. 
They  used  all  to  go  to  their  duty  at  Christmas  or  Easter — 
and  often  more  frequently  ; — but  in  this  country  scarcely 
anybody  goes  at  all."  This  is  the  language  I  have  heard. 
It  is  not  uncommon.  Now,  what  does  all  this  mean  ?  What 
has  this  country  or  that,  this  portion  of  the  world  or  that, 
this  maxim  of  the  world  or  that, — what  has  it  to  do  with 
your  will  ?  Where,  in  reason, — where,  in  faith, — where,  in 
Scripture,  can  you  find  me  one  word  from  Almighty  God  to 
man  :  "  Son  of  man,  do  as  those  around  you  do  ;  confomi 
your  life  to  the  usr.ges  of  the  world  around  you — to  the  max- 
ims of  the  world  in  which  you  live."  But  Christ  has  said  : 
'^  Be  not  conformed  to  this  world  ;  for  the  friendship  of  this 
world  is  enmity  before  God."  The  passions  within  us, — 
those  terrible  passions ! — the  strong,  the  unreasoning,  the 
lustful  desires  of  youth — the  strong,  unreasoning,  revengeful 
pride  and  passion  of  man ; — the  strong,  unreasoning  desire 
to  be  enriched  before  his  time  by  means  which  are  accursed  j 
— the  strong  passions  within  him,  whatever  they  may  be, 
that  rise  up,  like  giants,  in  his  path, — these  are  the  most 
teiTible  tyrants  of  all,  when  they  assume  dominion  over  man ; 
and,  above  all,  when  they  assume  the  aggrav^ated  and  detest- 


THE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  LIBERTY.  37 

able  dominion  of  habit.  Let  me  say  a  word  to  you  about 
this.  There  is  not  a  man  among  us  who  has  not  his  own 
little  world  of  iniquity  within  him.  Not  one  !  There  is  not 
a  man  amoni^-  us,  even  of  those  who  are  within  the  sanctuary, 
that  must  not  work  out  his  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling. 
And  whv  f  Because  he  has  great  enemies  in  his  own  pas- 
sions. Now,  the  Almighty  God's  design  is  that  those  pas- 
sions should  become  completely  subject  to  the  dominion  of 
reason  by  the  free  will  of  man.  So  long  as  man  is  able  to 
keep  the'm  down,  to  subdue  them — so  long  as  a  man  is  able 
to  keep  humble,  pure,  chaste,  temperate,  in  spite  of  them, 
— that  man  is  free;  because  he  controls  and  keeps  down 
those  servants,  his  passions,  which  the  Almighty  God  never 
intended  should  govern  him. 

Now,  the  intention  of  Almighty  God  is  that  we  should 
keep  down  those   passions.     The  second  intention  of   Al- 
mighty God  is,  therefore,  that  if  they  rise, — as  rise  they  do, 
in  many  cases, — and,  for  a  time,  overpower  the  soul,  and  in- 
duce a  man  to  commit  this  sin  or  that, — that  he  must  at  once 
rise  up  out  of  that  sin,  put  down  that  passion,  and  chain  it 
down  under  the  dominion  of  reason  and  will ;  because,  if  he 
lets  it  remain  and  allows  it  to  subdue  him,  and  seduce  him 
into  sin  ao-ain,  in  an  inconceivably  short  time  that  passion 
will  beconie  the  habit  and  the  tyrant  of  his  life.    For  instance, 
if  a  man  gets  drunk, — if  there  is  any  one  among  you  that  was 
ever  drunk, — I  would  ask  that  man,  and  say :  "  My  dear  friend, 
try  to  recall  the  first  time  you  got  drunk.     Do  you  remember 
next  morning  in  what  a  state  your  head  was,  splitting  as  if 
it  would  ^0  asunder  ^?     You  felt  that  you  would  give  half  of 
all  vou  were  worth  for  a  drink  of  water.     Your  tongue  was 
dry "^ and  parched,  and  a  coarse  fur  on  it.     Do  you  remember 
how  you  got  up  in  the  morning  and  did  not  know  what  to  do 
with  yourself  for  the  whole  day,  going  about  here  and  there, 
afraid  to  eat,  your  stomach  being  so  sick ;  afi-aid  to  lie  down, 
and  not  able  to  remain  up  or  go  to  work  ;  moaning  and  shak- 
ing and  not  able  to  get  over  the  headache  of  the  preceding 
night?  That  was  the  first  time;  and  you  made  vows  it  should 
be* the  last.     Next  day  a  friend  came  along  and  said  :  "  Let 
us  go  out  and  take  a  glass  of  toddy  ?  "     He  wanted  you  to 
take  it  as  medicine.     1  remember  once,  I  heard  of  a  man  m 
this  particular  state ;  and  when  he  saw  brandy  and  water  be- 
fore him,  he  said:  "No,  sir;   I  wouhl  rather  take  Epsom 


88  FATHER  BUBKE'S  DISCOUBSES. 

salts."     And  why?   Because  the  habit  is  not   yet  formed 5 
the  habit  is  not  yet  confirmed.     But  go  on,  my  friend.     Do 
not  mind  that.     When  that  headache  and  that  first  sickness 
go  away,  go  on  5  and  after  awhile,  when  you  have  learned 
to  drink,  the  headache  does  not  trouble  you  any  more ;  you 
get  used  to  it  5  the  poison  assimilates  to  the  system ; — but 
the    habit  is    comej    the    physical    weakness    is  gone,    and 
the  habit  of  sin  is  come.     Now,  I  would  like  to  see  you, 
if  you  were  drunk  yesterday  evening,  to  be  able  to  resist 
"  taking  your  morning."     You  could  not  do  it  ?    I  have  seen 
a  man,   I   was  at  his  bedside,   and   the  doctor  was  there 
after  taking   him  over  six  long  days  of  delirium  tremens  ; 
and  the   doctor    said   to   him,    "  As    sure   as   God    created 
you,  if  you  take  brandy  or  whiskey  for  the  next  week,  you 
will  be  a  dead  maii !     It  will  kill  you  !  "     I  was  present ;  I 
was  trying  to  see  if  the  poor  fellow  would  go  to  confes- 
sit)n.     There   was  the  bottle   of  brandy  near  him  on  the 
table  ;  for  they  had  had  to  give  him  brandy.     And  while  the 
doctor  was  yet  speaking  to  hiui,  I  saw  his  eyes  fastened  on  it, 
and  the  hand  creepiiig  up  towards  it  5  and  if  ever  you  saw  a 
hungry  horse  or  mule  looking  at  oats,  it  was  he,  when,  with 
his  eyes  devouring  the  bottle,  he  reached  out,  clutched  it, 
and  put  it  to  his  head,  after  hearing  that,  as  sureh^  as  God 
made  him,  so  surely  would  he  die  if  he  drank  of  it !     He 
could  not  help  it.     Where,  then,  was  that  man's  freedom "? 
It  had  perished  in  the  habit  of  sin.     Look  at  Holofernes,  as 
we  read  of  him  in  Scripture, — the  profane,  the  impure  man  ! 
What  does  the  Scripture  say  of  him  ?     That  when  Judith 
came  into  his  tent,  the  moment  he  looked   upon   her,  the 
moment  he  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  woman,  he  loved  her.     He 
could  not  help  it.     His  senses  had  enslaved  him.     His  will ! 
He  had  no  will.     Speak  to  me  of  the  freedom  of  the  will  of  a 
thirsty  animal  going  to  the  water  to  drink,  and  I  may  believe 
it.     Speak  to  me  of  the  freedom  of  will  of  a  raging  lion, 
hungering  for  days,  and  seeing  food  and  leaving  it,  and  I 
will  believe  in  it  as  soon  as  1  will  believe  in  the  freedom 
of  the  will  of  the  man  who    has  enslaved  himself   in  the 
habit  of  sin. 

Therefore,  Almighty  God  intends  either  that  we  should 
be  free  from  sin  alt(jgether,  keeping  down-the  habit  of  all 
those  passions  ;  or  if  they,  from  time  to  time,  rise  up,  taking 
us  unawareS;  taking  us  off  om"  feet^  not  to  yield  to  them,  but 


TUE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  LIBERTY.  39 

to  cliain  tliein  down  again,  and  not  by  indulgence  to  make 
tliem  grow  into  habits. 

Now,  the  e.^sence  of  freedom  in  tlie  will  of  man  lies  not  in 
tlie  restraint  of  legitimate  authority  but  in  the  freedom  from 
all  care,  and  from  those  powers  and  influences  that  neither 
God,  nor  man,  nor  society  intended  should  influence  or  govern 
his  will.  Here  I  come  home  again  to  the  subject  of  my 
lecture.  Now  I  invite  you  again  to  consider  where  shall  we 
find  the  means  of  emancipating  our  will  from  these  passions 
and  other  bad  influences '?  Where  shall  we  find  the  means  ? 
Will  knowledge  do  it?  No.  Will  faith  do  it!  No.  It  is  a 
strange  thing  to  say,  but  knowledge,  no  matter  how  extensive, 
no  matter  how  profound,  gives  no  command  over  the  passions  ; 
no  intellectual  motives  influence  them.  ^' Were  it  forme," 
says  a  great  orator  of  the  present  day,  Dr.  Wilberforce,  in 
his  "  Earnest  Cry  for  a  Reformation  j "  "when  you  can  moor 
a  vessel  with  a  thread  of  silk,  then  you  may  hope  to  elevate 
this  human  knowledge,  and,  by  human  reason,  to  tie  down 
and  restrain  those  giants — the  passions  and  the  pride  of 
man."  I  know  as  much  of  the  law  of  God  as  any  among 
you — more  probably  than  many — for  we  are  to  teach  it. 
Does  my  knowledge  save  me  from  sin  ?  Will  that  knowledge 
keep  me  in  the  observance  of  the  sacred  vows  I  took  at  the 
altar  of  God  ?  Is  it  to  that  knowledge  that  I  look  for  the 
power  and  strength  within  me  to  keep  every  sinful  passion 
down  in  sacerdotal  purity — every  grovelling  desire  down  in 
monastic  poverty — every  sin — every  feeling  of  pride  down,  in 
religious  obedience?  Is  it  to  my  knowledge  I  look  for  that 
power  ?  No  :  I  might  know  as  much  as  St.  Augustine,  and 
yet  be  imperfect.  1  might  be  a  Pilate  in  atrocity,  and  yet 
as  proud  a  man !  There  is  another  question  involving  the 
great  necessity  of  keeping  down  these  passions.  I  would 
like  to  know  where,  in  history,  you  could  find  a  single 
evidence  of  knowledge  restraining  the  passions  of  man,  and 
purifying  him.  No ;  the  grace  of  God  is  necessary — the 
grace  of  God  coming  through  fixed,  specific  channels  to 
the  soul.  The  actual  participation  of  the  holiness  and  the 
iuliuite  sanctity  of  Christ  is  ne(;essary.  Where  is  that 
to  be  found?  Where  is  that  to  be  found  that  will  save 
the  young  from -falling  into  sin,  and  save  the  sinner  from 
the  slavery  of  the  habit  of  sin?  Where  is  that  to  be 
found  which  will  either  tie  down  the  passions  altogether,  or, 


40  FATHER  BURKES  DISCOURSES. 

if  they  ocCcasionally  rise  up,  put  tliem  down  again  and  not 
allow  tliem  to  grow  into  the  gigantic,  tyrannical  strength  of 
habit  ?  Where,  but  in  the  Catholic  Church "?  Take,  for 
example,  the  Sacrament  of  Penance.  These  children  are 
taught,  with  the  opening  of  reason,  their  duty  to  God.  You 
may  say  the  Church  is  very  unreasonable,  because  to-day  she 
tells  you  that  she  will  not  allow  these  children  to  go  to  your 
common  schools,  or  to  any  other  schools  where  they  are  not 
taught  of  God — where  they  are  not  taught  the  holiness  of 
God,  the  things  of  God,  the  influence  of  God,  mixed  up  with 
every  addition  of  knowledge  that  comes  to  their  minds.  You 
may  say  the  Church  is  unreasonable  in  that.  No :  because 
she  tries  to  keep  them  from  sin  ?  She  tries  to  give  them  the 
strength  that  will  bind  these  passions  down,  so  as  to  make 
moral  men,  truthful  men,  pure-minded  men  of  them, — and  to 
give  them  complete  victory,  if  possible,  over  these  pas- 
sions. But  if,  as  age  comes  on,  as  temptations  come 
on,  if  the  Catholic  man  goes  and  gets  drunk,  if  the 
Catholic  man  falls  into  any  sin,  this  or  that  one,  at  once 
the  Church  comes  before  him,  and  at  the  moment  he 
crosses  the  threshold  of  the  sanctuary,  and  his  eyes 
fall  upon  the  confessional,  that  moment  he  is  reminded  of  the 
admonition,  "  Come  to  me  !  and  wash  your  soul  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb  !  Come  and  tell  your  sin  !  "  The  very  con- 
sciousness of  the  knowledge  of  having  to  confess  that  sin  5 
the  humiliation  of  being  obliged  to  tell  it  in  all  its  details — 
to  tell  it  with  so  much  self-accusation,  and  sense  of  self-de- 
gradation for  having  committed  it, — is,  in  itself,  a  strong  check 
to  prevent  it,  and  a  strong,  powerful  influence,  even  humanly 
speaking,  against  again  falling  into  it,  or  repeating  it.  As  the 
confessional  saves  from  the  tyranny  of  the  passions,  and  above 
all,  breaks  up  the  means  and  does  not  allow  the  habit  of  sin 
to  become  a  second  nature  in  the  life  of  man,  what  is  the 
consequence  ?  The  Catholic  man,  if  he  only  observes  his  re- 
ligion, if  he  only  exercises  himself  in  its  duties,  if  he  only 
^oes  to  confession,  if  he  onl}^  partakes  in  its  Sacraments  and 
uses  them  ;  the  Catholic  man  is  free  in  his  will,  by  Divine 
grace,  as  he  is  free  in  his  intelligence,  by  love.  Knowledge 
of  the  truth  is  freedom  of  the  intellect — freedom  from  every 
agency,  from  every  power  that  might  control  the  freedom  of 
the  will  ; — and  that  is  effected  })y"Divine  grace.  So  far,  we 
have  seen  that  Almighty  God  has  reproduced  in  the  Church 


THE  CHUnCU  THE  MOTHER  OF  LIBERTY.  41 

the  elements  of  true  freedom.  I  do  not  say  that  the  Catholic 
Chm'ch  was  the  "•  mother  "  of  human  freedom.  I  said  she  was 
''  the  foster-mother ;  "  for,  to  use  a  familiar  phrase,  we  are  lit- 
erally and  truly  '^  put  out  to  nurse,"  as  it  were,  to  the  Church. 
The  freedom  which  we  possess  came  to  us,  not  from  the 
Church,  but  from  Cod.  He  came  down  from  Heaven,  after 
man  had  been  four  thousand  years  in  sin — after  man  had 
lost  his  noble  inheritance  of  knowledge,  of  light,  of  freedom, 
and  power,  and  self-restraint.  He  came  in  the  darkness  ;  and 
He  gave  the  light.  He  came  in  slavery  ;  and  he  gave  free- 
dom. Having  thus  restored  in  man  what  he  had  lost  in 
Adam,  He  then,  as  He  himself  tells  us  in  the  parable  of  the 
Good  Samaritan,  gave  us  to  the  Church,  and  said — "  Take 
care  of  this  race  ;  presei-ve  them  in  this  light  of  knowledge 
and  freedom  of  truth.  Presence  them  till  I  come  back  again, 
and  I  will  pay  thee  well  for  thy  care."  Now,  my  friends,  if 
there  were  one  here  to-night  who  is  not  a  Catholic,  he  might 
smile  in  his  own  soul  and  say :  "  This  Fnar  is  a  very  cunning 
fellows  He  dresses  up  things  plausibly  enough  so  long  as 
he  is  arguing  in  the  clouds  about  freedom  and  the  elements 
of  freedom,  and  the  soil  of  freedom.  He  is  quite  at  home 
there.  But  when  he  comes  down  from  the  clouds  to  find 
how  this  Church,  this  temble  Church,  this  enslaving  Church, 
has  dealt  with  society,  then  let  him  look  out !  Then  let  us 
hear  what  he  has  to  say  for  himself !  " 

Again,  what  are  those  charges  that  are  laid  against  the 
Catholic  Church  ?  The  first  charge  alleged  against  her  is 
that  she  does  not  allow  people  to  read  every  thing  that  is 
published.  It  is  quite  true.  If  the  Church  had  her  will, 
there  are  a  great  many  books,  that  are  considered  now  by 
many  people  very  nice  reading,  that  would  all  be  put  in  the 
fire.  I  acknowledge  that ;  I  admit  it.  Tell  me,  my  friends, 
— and  are  there  not  a  great  many  fathers  of  families  among 
you  ? — if  one  of  you  found  with  your  little  boy  some  black- 
guard book,  some  filthy,  vile,  immoral  book,  would  you  let 
your  child  read  it  ?  Would  you  consider  that  you  were  en- 
slaving his  mind  by  taking  that  book  from  him  and  putting 
it  in  the  fire  before  his  face?  If  you  found  one  of  your 
sons  reading  some  very  beautiful  passage  of  Voltaire,  in 
which  he  makes  a  laughing-stock  of  faith,  and  tries  to  raise 
a  laugh  against  Christ  on  the  cross,  would  you  consider 
you  were  doing  badly  for  yoiu'  child — would  you  consider 


42  FA  TREE  B  URKKS  DISCO  URSES. 

yourself  eiislavin<^  him — by  taking  that  book  from  liim  and 
putting  it  in  tlie  fire  ? 

Now,  tliis  is  what  the  Catholic  Church  does.  She  declares 
that  people  have  no  right  to  read  that  which  is  against  faith 
and  morals  5  that  whicli  is  against  the  truth  of  Christ;  that 
which  is  against  the  divinity  of  Christ — that  in  which  the 
pride  of  the  unregenerated  mind  of  man  rises  up  and  says  :  ^^  I 
will  not  believe  :  "  and,  not  content  with  this,  he  writes  a  book, 
and  tries  to  make  everybody  believe  and  say  the  same  thing. 
The  Church  says :  "  Do  not  read  it."  There  are  some  whom 
she  allows  to  read  it.  She  lets  me  read  it.  She  lets  my  fel- 
low-priests read  it.  Sometimes  she  even  obliges  us  to  read  it. 
Why  ?  Because  she  knows  we  have  knowledge  enough  to  see 
the  falsity  of  it,  and  she  allows  us  to  read  it  that  we  may  re- 
fute it.  She  does  not  allow  you  to  read  it.  And  why  ?  I  do 
not  care  to  flatter  you,  my  friends.  Nothing  is  more  com- 
monly used  to  lead  people  astray  than  a  plausible  lie.  I  de- 
clare to  you  that,  although  I  think  ''  the  truth  is  great  and 
must  prevail ;  "  that  if  I  had  my  choice  given  to  me,  and  I 
could  do  it  without  sin, — if  it  were  given  to  me  to  come  out 
and  try  to  enforce  the  truth  or  to  make  you  believe  a  lie — I 
really  believe  I  would  be  able  sooner  to  do  the  second  ;  it  is 
so  nmch  easier  for  us  to  flatter — especially  with  a  lie  to  flatter 
your  pride — to  tell  you  you  are  the  finest  fellows  in  the  w^orld 
— to  tell  you  you  must  not  be  governed  by  a  certain  class — 
that  you  must  not  ha  paying  taxes  ; — tliat  you  have  no  right  to 
support  an  army  and  navy  ; — that  you  have  no  right  to  pay  a 
class  of  men  to  govern  you; — and  thus  they  go  on,  playing 
into  your  hands,  playing  on  your  love  of  money  and  your  love 
of  yourself.  There  is  no  lie  among  the  whole  catalogue  of 
lies  that,  if  I  were  like  them,  I  would  not  tell  you ;  and  I 
could  make  you  believe  it.  The  Church  says:  ^' There  is,  in 
a  certain  book,  an  immoral  lesson  or  a  lie,  and  I  will  not 
allow  my  children  to  read  it."  There  are  books  published, 
and  I  have  seen  them  in  the  hands  of  Protestant  boys  and 
girls,  and  the  ver}^  Pope  of  Rome  has  not  leave  to  read  them. 
They  are  books  that  contain  direct  appeals  to  immorality, 
direct  appeals  to  the  passions — books  against  both  faith  and 
morals,  that  the  Church  does  not  allow  to  be  read  by  any 
one.     But  is  this  slavery  ? 

But  the  argument  against  Catholicity  is  that  the  men  who 
make  scientific  discoveries — the  men  who  said  that  the  world 


THE  CnVBCH  THE  MOTHEB  OF  LIBERTY.  43 

was  round,  for  instance, — men  wlio  said  that  the  world  was 
round  when  it  was  geuenilly  V>elieved  to  be  a  great  flat  plain, 
— were  put  in  prison.     There  is  one  answer  to  that :   There 
is  not  a  sini^le  instance  in  history  of  the  Church  joining  issue 
with  any  minister  on  any  purely  scientific  subject,  and  perse- 
cuting him  for  it.     If  there  was  not  any  question  of  faith  or 
morals  involved,   she  bade    him   '^  God    speed ! ''    and  told 
him    to  go  on  with  his  discoveries,   if  there  was  any  thing 
useful  in  them,  and   nothing  hostile    to    religion   in   them. 
I  will  give  you  an  instance  :  In  the  sixth  century  there  was  an 
Irish  Saint  who  was  called  Yirgilius — (in  his  own  country  his 
name  was  Feargil) — and  this  man  was  a  great  Culdee  monk, 
and  a  great  scholar.     The  result  of  his  speculations  was  that 
he  became  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  that  this  world  was  a 
globe — round — as  it  is, — and  that  there  must,  therefore,  be  an- 
tipodes— one  on  this  side  and  one  on  the  other  side,  and  that 
there  must  be  seas  between  one  land  and  another.       He  an- 
nounced this  ;  and  it  came  among  the  scientific  men  of  the  day, 
and  fell  among  them,  really  and  truly,  as  if  a  bombshell  had 
■  burst  at  their  feet.      The  scholars  of \he  day,  the  universities 
of  the  day,  appealed  to  Rome  against  him  for  having  pro- 
nounced so  fearful  a  theory  :  they  said  it  was  heresy.     What 
did  the  Pope  dof  Remember,  you  can  consult  tlie  authorities 
for  vourselves.     I  can  give  you  chapter  and  verse,  if  you  want 
them.       What  did  that  Pope  do  %     He  summoned  this  man 
to    Rome.       He    said:     ''You  are    charged   with    teaching 
a    strange    doctrine, — with  saying    that    the    world    is    a 
gpliere— a   globe.      Tell   us   all   about   it'?''      He   did  so. 
What  answer  did  Feargil  get !     The  Poi)e  took  him  by  the 
hand.     "  Mv  dear  friend,"  he  said,  "go  on  with  your  astro- 
nomical   discoveries ;"— and   he   made    him    Archbishop    of 
Salzburg,  and  sent  him  home  with   a   mitre  on  his   head. 
This  is  how  the  Catholic    Church    dealt    with    intellectual 
Jil^ertv  when  that  intellectual  liberty  did  not  claim_  for  itself 
anv  thing  bad,   and  was  void  of  any  thing  that  interfered 
with  or  was  opposed  to  Christian  faith  or  morals.     Do  you 
wish  to  make  us  out  slaves  because  we  ought  not  to  get  a 
knowledj^e  of  evil  ?     One  of  the  theories  of  the  day  is  that  it 
is  better  lo  let  little  boys  and  girls  read  every  thing,  good 
and  bad  ;  to  know  every  thing.     Is  it  better?     Do  you  think 
you  know  better  than  Almighty  God  ?  There  was  one  tree  in 
the  garden  of  Eden,  and  Ahnighty  God  gave  a  commandment 


44  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

to  Adam  and  Eve,  that  they  should  neither  taste  of  it  nor  touch 
it.  "What  tree  was  it  ?  It  was  the  ^'tree  of  the  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil.''  Did  Almighty  God  intend  to  exclnde  from 
Adam  the  knowledge  of  good  !  Ko  5  but  He  intended  to  ex- 
clude from  liim  the  fatal  knowledge  of  evil.  A  prohibition 
against  reading  a  very  bad  book  was  the  first  and  only  prohi- 
bition that  Almighty  God  gave  to  the  first  man.  "Do  not 
touch  that  tree,"  said  He,  ''  because,  if  you  do,  you  will  come 
to  the  knowledge  of  that  which  is  evil."  "  When  ignorance 
is  bliss,  'tis  folly  to  be  wise."     So  says  Pope. 

Now,  my  friends,  who  are  they  that  make  this  charge 
against  the  Catholic  Church,  that  she  enslaves  her  children  ? 
Who  are  they  that  tell  us  that  the  historical  mother  of  all  the 
great  universities  in  the  old  world  is  afraid  of  knowledge  ? 
Who  are  they  who  tell  us  that  the  Church,  whose  monks,  in 
her  cloisters,  preserved  art  and  science  for  a  thousand  years — 
preserved  all  the  ancient  relics  that  we  have  of  ecclesiastical 
learning,  and  of  the  learning  of  Greece  and  Rome ;— that 
Church  that  set  her  monks,  her  alchemists,  and  students 
experimentalizing  in  their  cloisters,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  until 
most  of  what  are  called  the  modern  discoveries  were  made  or 
anticipated  by  them ; — who  are  they  who  tell  us  that  the 
Church  is  the  enemy  of  light  and  knowledge  and  of  freedom? 
Who  are  they?  They  are  the  Freemasons  of  the  day. 
Freemasons. 

Now,  you  will  allow  me,  if  you  please,  to  retort  the  asser- 
tion on  my  friends  the  Masons — Mazzini  and  Garibaldi  and 
Bismarck; — for  all  these  are  Freemasons.  They  all  say: 
''  Oh,  let  us  wash  our  hands  clean  of  this  old  institution — 
the  Catholic  Church.  She  would  make  slaves  of  us  all.  We 
must  give  the  people  freedom ;  we  must  give  them  liberty." 
And  then  they  lay  on  taxation.  Then  they  tell  every  citi- 
zen in  the  land  that  he  must  lay  aside  his  spade  and  become 
a  soldier.  They  tell  every  man  who  is  eighteen  years  of  age,- 
that  he  is  to  fight  for  freedom ;  and  they  thrust  him  into  the 
army.  Call  you  this  freedom "?  Yet  this  is  what  they  give 
for  the  liberty  of  the  Church !  Are  they  free  themselves, 
these  Freemasons  ?  I  will  give  you  one  answer — and  one  is 
as  good  as  a  thousand.  Last  December  twelvemonth,  when 
I  was  in  the  city  of  Dublin,  a  man  came  to  me.  He  had 
attended  a  series  of  sermons  I  was  preaching  in  our  church 
there.     He  w^as  an  intellectual  man,  a  well-educated  man. 


THE  CnUECH  THE  MOTHER  OF  LIBERTY.  45 

He  came  to  me  and  said  :  "  I  ought  to  be  a  Catholic ;  but 
the  fact  of  it  is,  I  have  been  so  h)ng'  away  from  the  Sacra- 
ments and  every  thing  religious  that  I  can  scarcely  say  I 
am,  even  in  name,  a  Catholic.  But  now,"  he  says,  "  I  feel 
and  I  know  that  I  must  do  something  to  save  my  soul." 
Well,  I  took  him,  and  instructed  him  in  the  holy  Sacraments, 
gave  him  the  Holy  Communion,  and  sent  him  away.  He 
said  that  he  had  never,  for  years  upon  years,  known  such 
happiness ;  and  he  went  on  his  way.  That  man  received 
Confirmation,  and  was  constant  in  his  duty  from  December 
until  the  month  of  April.  Then  I  waited  for  him  ;  but,  in- 
stead of  his  coming,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  me.  ^'  My  Rev. 
friend,"  he  said,  ^'  you  will,  no  doubt,  be  disappointed  to  find 
I  am  not  coming  to  you  on  Saturday.  The  fact  of  it  is,  I 
cannot  come.  I  find  that  I  cannot  shake  off  Freemasonry. 
I  have  got  several  notices  from  my  Masonic  brethren  that  I 
must  either  adhere  to  them  or  give  up  my  religion.  My 
religion  has  brought  me  more  happiness  than  I  ever  experi- 
enced in  my  life,  and  it  is  with  bitter  regret  I  tell  you  that 
my  business  is  falling  off;  that  they  are  turning  away  my 
customers  from  me ; — and  they  tell  me  they  will  bring  me  to 
a  beggar's  grave — a  wretched  end ;  and  they  can  and  will 
do  it.  Therefore  I  hope  you  will  not  forget  me;  but  I  must 
give  up  the  happiness  I  have  had  !  "  Was  that  man  free,  I 
ask  you  ? 

Who  are  the  men  who  turn  round  and  tell  me  I  am  not 
heQ  ? — who  tell  me  I  am  not  free,  because,  indeed,  I  am  not 
fettered  like  a  slave,  bound  by  every  filthy  passion  !  Who 
are  they  that  tell  me  I  am  not  free,  because  I  do  not,  of  my 
own  free  will,  incline  myself  and  pollute  my  mind  with  every 
species  of  evil  and  impurity!  Who  are  they  who  tell  me  I 
am  not  free,  because  in  the  Church  I  have  to  believe  that 
what  she  teaches  is  true  ?  But  I  tell  them  it  is  true.  Who 
are  the  gentlemen  who  told  my  friend  that,  at  the  peril  of 
his  life,  he  must  return  to  them,  and  give  up  his  religion? 
These  are  the  men  who  turn  round,  nowadays,  and  tell  us 
that  in  the  Catholic  Church  a  man  is  not  free  !  But  this  is 
the  Church  that  has  brought  me  from  the  slavery  of  sin  into 
the  freedom  of  Ood,  and  the  glorious  liberty  of  an  heir  of 
Heaven.  As  long  as  you  pursue  any  scientific  research,  as 
long  as  yon  extend  your  mind  in  any  legitimate,  healthy, 
moral  course  of  literatm-C;  or  in  any  intellectual  pursuit,  you 


46  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

liave  the  blessing  and  enconrageinent  of  tlie  Church  upon  you, 
Do  not  mind  the  worhi  if  it  call  you  a  slave.  If  yoa  come 
to  a  certain  point,  if  you  read  certain  hooks,  the  Church  says 
you  must  become  either  an  impure  man  or  an  infidel.  Do  not 
read  them,  in  God's  name  !  It  is  not  slavery  for  the  intellect 
to  repudiate  a  lie.  It  is  not  slavery  for  the  will  to  reject  that 
which,  if  once  accepted,  asserts  the  dominion  of  the  slavery 
of  sin  and  of  habit  over  the  souls  of  men.  This  do  I  say 
with  truth :  that  our  mother,  the  Church,  in  the  piinciples 
which  our  Lord  established,  in  her  daih'  sacerdotal  exercises, 
is  the  foster-mother  of  human  freedom.  It  is  a  historical 
and  a  remarkable  fact,  that  the  kings  of  Europe — the  King 
of  Spain,  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  the  King  of  England, 
the  King  of  France  — exercised  the  most  absolute  and  irre- 
sponsible power  precisely  at  the  time  wdien  the  Catholic  Church 
was  weakened  in  her  influence  over  them  by  the  heresy  of 
Martin  Luther.  It  is  most  remarkable  that  so  absolute  in 
England  was  Henry  the  Eighth,  (and  never  was  there  a 
king  whose  absolute  manner  of  governing  and  whose  conduct 
recalls  more  the  days  of  the  Grand  Turk,)  that  he  married  a 
woman  one  day,  he  killed  her  the  next ;  and  who  was  to 
call  .him  to  account  ?  So  absolute  a  king  could  not  have 
done  this  as  a  Catholic ;  and  he  threw-  aside  his  allegiance. 
If  a  Catholic  king  had  done  these  things — if  Henry's  father 
had  done  them — if  any  one  of  Henry's  Catholic  predecessors 
had  done  so,  his  excommunication  would  have  come  from 
Rome.  He  would  have  been  afraid  of  his  life  to  do  it.  He 
would  have  been  afraid  of  the  Pope.  What  was  this  but 
securing  the  people's  liberty  ? 

Thus  do  we  see  that,  so  long  as  the  Catholic  Church  had 
power  to  exercise,  and  exercised  that  power,  she  exercised  it  to 
coerce  kings  into  justice,  into  respect  for  their  subjects  and 
for  law,  for  property  and  for  life.  This  is  a  historical  fact, 
that  the  Tudors  assumed  an  absolute  sovereignty  as  soon  as 
they  shook  ofi  the  Pope,  and  declared  to  the  people  that  they 
W'Cre  the  lords  and  rulers  of  the  consciences,  as  well  as  of  the 
civil  obedience  of  men.  We  also  know  that  Gustavus,  the 
Protestant  King  of  Sweden,  assumed  absolute  power.  We 
also  know  that  that  power  grew  into  iron  fetters  under 
Charles  the  Fifth,  who,  thougirnot  a  Protestant  himself,  but 
a  good  Catholic,  yet  governed  a  people  who  were  divided  in 
their  principles  of  allegiance^  and  he  forsook  the  world  for 


THE  CnURCR  TEE  MOTHER  OF  LIBERTY.  47 

the  Clinrch.  ^Ye  can  bring  home  history  to  prove  that  the 
weakening  of  the  Catholic  Chnrch  in  her  temporal  power 
over  society  has  been  the  cause  of  the  assumption  of  more 
power,  more  absolute  dominion,  and  more  tyrannical  exercise 
of  that  dominion  on  the  part  of.  every  ruler  in  Europe.  And, 
therefore,  I  say  that,  historically,  as  well  as  in  principle,  the 
Catholic  Church  is  the  foster-mother  of  human  liberty. 

And  now,  my  friends,  you  will  be  able,  by  word  of  mouth, 
to  answer  all  those  who  call  you  slaves  because  you  are 
Catholics.  You  may  as  well  call  a  man  a  slave  because  he 
obeys  his  father.  You  may  as  well  say  the  child  is  a  slave 
because  there  are  certain  laws  and  rules  that  govern  him. 
You  may  as  well  say  that  the  citizen  is  a  slave  because  he 
acknowledges  the  poi\'er  of  the  State  to  legislate  for  him,  and 
he  bows  to  the  power  of  that  legislation. 


THE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  AND  INSPIRATION 
OF  ART. 

I A  Lecture   delivered  by  the  Very  Rev.    T.   N.  Burke,  O.P.,  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Vincent  Ferrer,  2seio  York,  March  10,  1872.  ] 

Deaklt  Beloved  Brethren  :  This  morning  I  told  you 
tlie  Holy  Catholic  Church  was  the  spouse  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  so  described  to  us  in  Scripture  as  "  dear  to  the  Lord," 
the  interior  beauty  of  which  the  Psalmist  says  is  "  like  tlie 
beauty  of  the  king's  daughter,"  and  of  the  exterior  of  which 
he  spoke  when  he  said :  '^  The  queen  stood  at  His  right 
hand,  in  golden  garb,  surrounded  with  variety."  We 
saw^,  moreover,  this  morning,  that  the  interior  beauty  and 
ineffable  loveliness  of  the  Churcli  consists,  above  all,  in  this, 
that  she  holds  enshrined  in  her  tabernacles  the  Lord,  the 
Redeemer  of  the  world,  as  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  His 
mother,  held  Him  in  her  arras  in  Bethlehem,  as  the  cross  sup- 
ported Hira  on  Mount  Calvary ;  that  she  possesses  His  ever- 
lasting truth,  which  He  left  as  her  inheritance,  and  which  it  is 
her  destiny  not  only  to  hold,  but  to  proclaim  and  propagate 
to  all  the  nations ;  and,  finally,  that  she  holds  in  her  hands 
the  sacramental  power  and  agencies  by  which  souls  are  sanc- 
rified,  purified,  and  saved.  In  these  three  features  we  saw 
the  beauty  of  the  Church  of  God  ;  in  these  three  we  beheld 
how  the  mystery  of  the  Incarnation  is  perpetuated  in  her,  for 
Christ  our  Lord  did  not  for  ever  depart  from  earth,  but,  ac- 
cording to  His  own  word,  came  back  and  remained.  '•  I  will 
not  leave  you  orphans,"  He  said,  "  but  I  will  come  to  you 
again,  and  I  will  remain  with  you  all  days,  even  to  the  con- 
summation of  the  world."  We  see  in  these  three  w^onderful 
features  of  the  Church's  interior  beauty  how  she  is  truly  'Hhe 
city  of  the  Living  Ood,"  '^  the  abode  of  grace  and  holiness  ;" 
and,  therefore,  that  all  the  majesty,  all  the  beauty,  all  the 
material  grandeur  with  which  it  is  in  our  power  to  invest  her, 
it  becomes  our  duty  to  give  to  her,  that  she  may  thus  appear 
before  the  eves  of  men  a  fittino*  tabernacle  for  our  Divine 


THE  CHUBCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  ART.  49 

Lord  Himself.  "We  have  seen,  moreover,  how  the  Church 
of  Gorl,  acting  upon  the  instincts  of  her  divinely  infused  life 
and  perpetual  charity,  has  always  endeavored  to  attest  and 
to  proclaim  her  faith  by  surrounding  the  object  of  that  Faith, 
her  God,  with  all  that  earth  holds  as  most  precious  and  most 
dear.  I  then  told  you  (if  you  remember)  this  mornino-,  that 
the  snbject  for  our  evening  s  consideration  would  be  the  ex- 
terior beauty  of  the  Holy  Church  of  God — some  otiier  fea- 
tures that  belong  to  her  distinct  from,  though  not  independent 
of,  the  three  great  singular  graces  of  God's  abiding  presence, 
of  God's  infallible  truth,  and  of  the  unceasing  stream  of  sac- 
ramental grace  that,  through  her,  flows  onward  : — those 
features  of  divine  beauty  which  we  recognize  upon  the  face  of 
our  Holy  Mother,  the  Church.  Therefore,  dearly  beloved, 
the  things  that  are  indicated  by  the  exterior  garb  with  which 
the  Prophet  invested  the  spouse  of  Christ :  "  The  queen  stood 
on  the  right  hand,  in  golden  garb,  suiTounded  with  variety," — 
every  choicest  gem,  every  celestial  form  of  beauty  embroid- 
ered upon  the  heavenly  clothing  of  Heaven's  Queen,  every 
rarest  jewel  let  into  the  setting  of  that  golden  garment,  every 
brightest  color  shining  forth  upon  her. 

What  is  this  exterior  beauty  of  the  Church  ?  I  answer 
that  it  consists  in  many  things — in  mau}^  influences — in  the 
many  ways  in  w^hich  she  has  acted  upon  -society.  Ever 
faithful  to  the  cause  of  God  and  to  the  cause  of  humanity, — 
ever  faithful  to  her  heavenly  trust, — after  more  than  eighteen 
hundred  years  of  busy  life,  she  stands  to-day  before  the 
world,  and  no  man  can  fix  upon  her  virgin  brow  the  shame 
of  deception,  the  shame  of  cruelty,  the  shame  of  the  denial 
of  the  food  of  man's  real  life,  the  Word  of  Truth.  No  man 
can  put  upon  her  the  taint  of  dishonor,  of  a  compromise  with 
hell  or  with  error,  or  with  any  power  that  is  hostile  to  the . 
sovereignty  of  God  or  to  the  interests  of  man.  Many,  indeed, 
are  the  ways  in  which  the  Church  of  God  has  operated  upon 
society.  Of  these  many  ways,  I  have  selected  as  the  subject 
for  our  evening's  illustration,  the  power  reposed  in  the 
Catholic  Church,  and  attested  by  undoubted  historical  evi- 
dences,— the  power  which  she  exercised  as  the  mother  and 
inspirer  of  the  fine  arts.  And,  here,  let  me  first  of  all  say, 
that,  besides  the  useful  and  necessary  arts  which  occupy  men 
in  their  daily' life, — the  arts  that  C(msist  in  maintaining  the 
essential  necessaries,  and  in  providing  the  comforts  of  life; 

3 


50  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES: 

the  arts  that  result  in  smoothing  away  all  the  difficulties 
that  meet  us  in  our  path  in  life,  as  far  as  the  hand  of  man 
can  materially  affect  this  ; — besides  these  useful  and  necessary 
arts,  there  are  others  which  are  not  necessary  for 
our  existence, — ^nor,  perhaps,  even  for  our  comfort, — but 
wdiich  are  necessary  to  meet  the  spiritual  cravings  and 
aspirations  of  the  human  soul,  and  that  fling  a  grace 
around  ourselves.  There  are  arts  and  sciences  which 
elevate  the  mind,  soothe  the  heart,  and  captivate  the  under- 
standing and  the  imagination  of  man.  These  are  called  ''  the 
fine  arts."  For  instance  :  it  is  not  necessary  for  your  life  or 
for  mine  that  our  eyes  should  rest  with  pleasure  upon  some 
beautiful  painting.  Without  that  we  could  live.  Without 
that  we  could  have  all  that  is  necessary  for  our  existence — 
for  om-  daily  comfort.  Yet,  how  refining,  how  invigorating, 
how  pleasing  to  the  eye,  and  to  the  soul  to  which  that  eye 
speaks,  is  the  language  that  appeals  to  us  silently,  yet  elo- 
quently, as  from  the  lips  of  a  friend,  from  works  of  architec- 
ture, or  sculptiu-e,  or  painting !  It  is  not  necessary  for  our 
lives,  nor  for  the  comfort  of  our  lives,  if  you  will,  that  our 
ears  should  be  charmed  with  the  sweet  notes  of  melodious 
music  5  but  is  there  one  among  us  that  has  not,  at  some  time 
or  other,  felt  his  soul  within  him  soothed,  and  the  burden  of 
his  sorrow  lightened,  the  pleasure  he  enj^Dyed  increased  and 
enhanced,  when  music,  with  its  magic  spell,  fell  upon  his  ear? 
It  is  not  necessary  for  our  lives  that  our  eyes  should  be 
charmed  with  the  sight  of  some  grand  majestic  building; 
but  who,  among  us,  is  there  who  has  not  felt  the  emotion  of 
sadness  swell  wathin  him  as  he  looked  upon  the  ivy-clad 
ruin  of  some  ancient  church  I  Who  is  there  among  us 
that  has  not,  at  some  time  or  other,  felt  the  softening,  refin- 
ing, though  saddening  influences  that  crept  over  him  when, 
entering  within  some  time-honored  ruin  of  an  abbey,  he  beheld 
the  old  lance-shaped  windows,  through  which  came  streams 
of  sunshine  like  the  "  light  of  other  days  ;  "  and  beheld  the 
ancient  tracery  on  that  w4iich  stood  behind  the  high  altar, 
and  had  once  been  filled  with  legends  of  angels  and  saints, 
but  now  open  to  every  breeze  of  heaven  ; — \\  hen  he  looked 
upon  the  place  as  that  in  which  his  imagination  pictm'ed  to 
him  holy  bishops  and  mitred  abbots  officiating  there  and 
offering  up  the  unbloody  sacrifice,  while  the  vaulted  arches 
and  long-drawn  aisles  resounded  wdth  the  loud  hosannas  of 


THE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  ART.  51 

the  long-lost  monastic  song  ?  Who  is  there  among  us  who 
has  not  felt,  at  times,  elevated,  impressed, — aye,  tilled  with 
strono-  feelings  of  delight, — as  his  eye  roamed  steadily  and 
gradually  up  to  the  apex  of  some  grand  cathedral,  resting 
upon  niches  of  saints  and  angels,  and  gliding  from  beauty 
to  beauty,  until,  at  length  straining  his  vision,  he  beheld, 
high  among  the  clouds  of  heaven,  the  saving  sign  of  the 
Cross  of  Christ,  upheld  in  triumph,  and  flinging  its  sacred 
shadow  over  the  silent  graves  I  It  is  thus  these  arts,  called 
the  Liberal  or  the  Fine  Arts,  fill  a  great  place,  and  accom- 
plish a  great  work  in  the  designs  of  Cod,  and  in  the  history 
of  God's  Holy  Church. 

]\Iy  friends',  the  theme  which  I  have  propounded  to  you 
contains  two  grave  truths.  The  first  of  these  is  this :  I  claim 
for  the  Catholic  Church  that  she  is  the  mother  of  the  arts ; 
secondly,  I  claim  for  her  the  glory  that  she  has  been  and  is 
their  highest  inspiration.  AVhat  is  it  that  forms  the  peculiar 
attraction,  that  creates  the  peculiar  influence  of  art  upon  the 
soul  of  man,  through  his  senses "?  What  is  it  that  captivates 
the  eye  ?  It  is  the  ideal  that  speaks  to  him  through  art.  In 
nature  there  are  many  beautiful  things,  and  we  contemplate 
them  with  joy,  with  delight ; — the  faint  blushes  of  the  morn- 
ing, as  the  rising  sun,  with  slanting  beams,  glides  over  the 
hills  and  through  the  glades,  filling  the  valleys  with  rosy  light, 
and  revealing  the  slopes  of  the  hillsides,  so  luxuriant  and  so 
bold,  rising  up  towards  the  majestic,  towering  mountains, 
flinging  the  shadows  of  their  snow-crowned  summits  to  Heaven. 
All  this  is  grand,  all  this  is  beautiful.  But,  in  nature, — because 
it  is  nature, — the  perfectly  beautiful  is  rarely  or  never  found. 
Some  one  thing  or  other  is  wanting  that  would  lend  an  addi- 
tional feature  of  loveliness  to  the  scene  which  we  contemplate, 
or  to  the  theme,  the  hearing  of  which  delights  us.  Now^,  the 
aim  of  the  Catholic  soul  of  art  is  to  take  the  beautiful,  wher- 
ever it  is  found,  to  abstract  it  from  all  that  might  deform  it, 
or  to  add  all  that  might  be  wanting  to  its  perfect  beauty ;  to 
add  to  it  every  feature  and  every  element  that  can  fulfil  the 
human  idea  of  perfect  loveliness,  and  to  fling  over  all  the  still 
higher  loveliness  which  is  caught  from  Heaven.  This  is 
called  "  the  Ideal"  in  art.  We  rarely  find  it  in  nature.  Do 
we  often  find  it  in  art  ?  We  do  not  find  that  perfect  beauty 
in  the  things  around  us.  We  look  upon  a  picture,  and  there 
we  behold  portrayed,  with  supreme  power,  all  the  glory  of  the 


52  FATHER  BURKE  S  DISCOURSES. 

light  that  the  sun  can  lend  from  Heaven — all  the  glory  of 
material  beauty  ; — but  in  vain  do  we  look  for  inspiration.  It 
is  dead  form  and  color.  It  has  no  soul.  Among  the  ancient 
nations — the  great  fountains  of  the  ancient  civilization — 
Egypt,  Assyria,  Greece,  and,  finally,  Home, — during  the 
four  thousand  years  that  went  before  the  coming  of  the 
Redeemer, — these  arts  and  sciences  flourished.  We  have 
still  the  remains  of  the  Coliseum,  for  instance,  in  Rome, 
combining  vastness  of  proportion  with  perfect  symmetry  ; 
and  the  mind  is  oppressed  at  the  immensity  of  size,  while 
the  eye  is  charmed  with  the  beauty  of  proportion.  But,  in 
the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries, — after  the  foundation  of  the 
Church, — after  the  promulgation  of  the  Christian  religion, — 
■when  the  Roman  Empire  had  bowed  down  her  imperial^  head 
before  the  glory  of  the  cross  of  Christ, — it  was  in  the  de- 
signs of  God  that  all  that  ancient  civilization,  all  these  ancient 
arts  and  sciences,  should  be  broken  up  and  perish.  Erom 
Egypt,  Syria,  and  the  far  East  they  came  ;  their  glory  concen- 
trated itself  in  Greece  ;  and  later,  and  most  of  all,  in  Rome. 
All  the  wealth  of  the  world  was  gathered  into  Rome.  All  the 
glory  of  earth  was  centralized  in  Rome.  Whatever  the  world 
knew  of  painting,  of  sculpture,  of  architecture,  of  music,  was 
found  in  Rome,  in  the  highest  perfection  to  which  the  ancient 
civilization  had  brought  it.  Then  came  the  moment  when 
the  Church  was  to  enter  upon  her  second  mission, — that  of 
creating  a  new  w^orld  and  a  new  civilization.  Then  came  the 
moment  when  Rome  and  her  ancient  empire  gravitated  to  a 
climax  by  her  three  hundred  years  of  religious  persecution  of 
the  Chm'ch  of  God,  and  her  crimes  were  about  to  be  expiated. 
Then  came  the  time  when  God's  designs  became  apparent. 
Even  as  the  storm-cloud  bursts  forth  and  sweeps  the  earth  in 
its  resistless  force,  so,  in  these  centuries  of  which  I  speak, 
from  the  fastnesses  of  the  Xorth  came  forth  di"eadful 
hordes  of  barbarians — men  without  civilization,  men  with- 
out religion — men  without  mercy — men  without  a  writ- 
ten language — men  without  a  history — men  without  a 
single  refining  element  of  'faith  among  them  ; — and  they 
came,  Goths  and  Visigoths,  Huns  and  Vandals,  sweeping 
onward  in  their  resistless  might, — almost  countless  thousands  of 
warriors,  carrying  slavery  and  destruction  in  their  hands ; — 
and  thus  they  swept  over  the  Western  world.  R(vme  v/ent 
down  before  them.     All  her  glory  departed  ]  and  so  the  civ- 


THE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  ART.  53 

ilization  of  Greece  and  Rome  was  completely  destroyed. 
Society  was  overtlirowiij  and  reduced  to  tlie  first  chaotic  ele- 
ments of  its  being*.  Every  art,  every  science,  every  si)lendid 
monu^ient  of  tlie  ancient  world  was  destroyed ;  and,  at  the 
close  of  the  fifth  century,  the  work  of  the  four  thousand  pre- 
ceding years  had  to  be  done  over  again.  Mankind  was  re- 
duced to  its  primal  elements  of  V)arbarism.  Languages  never 
before  heard,  barbaric  voices,  were  lifted  up  in  the  halls  of  the 
ancient  palaces  of  Italy,  and  in  the  Forum  of  Home.  All  the 
splendors  of  the  Roman  Empire  disappeared,  and,  with  them, 
almost  every  vestige  of  the  ancient  arts  and  civilization  of 
the  preceding  times.  No  power  of  earth  was  able  to  with- 
stand the  hordes  of  Attila.  No  army  was  able  to  make  front 
against  them.  All  went  down  before  them,  save  and  except 
one — one  organization,  one  power  in  the  world, — one  power, 
founded  by  Christ  and  compacted  by  the  very  hand  of  God  ; 
— founded  upon  an  immovable  foundation  of  knowledge  and 
of  truth  ; — one  power  which,  for  divine  purposes,  was  allowed  a 
respite  from  persecution  for  a  few  years,  in  order  that  she 
might  be  able  to  present  to  the  flood  of  barbarism  that  swept 
away  the  ancient  civilization,  a  compact  and  well-lormed 
body,  able  to  react  upon  it ; — and  that  power  was  the 
Holy  Church  of  God.  She  boldly  met  the  assault ;  she 
stemmed  the  tide  j  she  embraced  and  absorbed  in  herself 
nation  after  nation,  million  after  million  of  those  rude  chil- 
dren of  the  Northern  shores  and  forests.  She  took  them,  rough 
and  barbarous  as  they  were,  to  her  bosom  ;  and,  at  the  end  of  • 
the  fifth  century,  the  Church  of  God  began  her  exterior, 
heroic  mission  of  civilizing  the  world,  and  laying  the 
foundations  of  modern  civilization  and  of  modern  societ}^. 

So  it  went  on  until  the  day  when  the  capital  of  Rome  was 
shrouded  in  flames,  and  the  ancient  monuments  of  her  pride, 
of  iier  glory,  and  of  her  civilization,  were  ruined  and  fell  j  and 
almost  every  vestige  of  the  ancient  arts  disappeared.  The 
Church,  on  the  one  hand,  addressed  herself,  rirst  and  most 
immediately,  to  the  Christianizing  of  these  Northern  nations. 
Therein  lay  her  divine  niissi(tn  ;  therein  lay  the  purpose  for 
which  she  \vas  created — to  teach  them  the  truths  of  God. 
"While  she  did  this  she  carefully  gathered  together  all  that 
remained  of  the  traditions  of  ancient  Pagan  science  and  art. 
While  all  over  Europe  the  greater  part  of  the  nations  were 
engaged  in  the  wai'  between  Northern  barbansm  and  civil- 


54  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

ization,  and  the  land  was  one  great  battle-field,  overflowing 
with  blood,  the  Church  gathered  into  her  arms  all  that  she 
conld  lay  her  hands  on,  of  ancient  literature,  of  ancient  science 
and  art,' and  retired  with  them  into  her  cloisters.  Every- 
where over  the  whole  face  of  Europe,  and  in  Africa  and*Asia, 
— everywhere  the  monk  was  the  one  man  of  learning, — the 
one  man  who  brought  with  him,  into  his  cloister,  the  devotion 
to  God  that  involved  the  sacrifice  of  his  life,  the  devotion  to 
man  that  considers  a  neighbor's  good,  and  makes  civilization 
and  refinement  the  purpose  and  study  of  his  life.  Where, 
to-day,  would  be  the  literature  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome, 
if  the  Church  of  God,  the  Catholic  Church,  had  not  gathered 
their  remnants  into  her  cloisters?  Where,  to  day,  would  be 
(humanly  speaking)  the  very  Scriptures  themselves,  if  these 
monks  oi  old  had  not  taken  them,  and  made  the  transcribing 
of  them,  and  multiplying  copies  of  them,  the  business  of 
their  lives  ?  And  so,  all  that  the  Avorld  has  of  science,  of 
art, — all  that  the  world  has  of  tradition — of  music,  of  painting, 
of  architecture — all  that  the  world  has  of  the  arts  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  was  treasured  up  for  a  thousand  years  in  the 
cloisters  of  the  Catholic  Church. 

And,  now,  her  twofold  mission  began.  While  her 
preachers  evangelized, — while  they  followed  the  armies  of 
the  Vandal  and  the  Goth,  from  field  to  field,  and  back  to 
their  fastnesses  of  the  North  ;  while  they  converted  those 
rude  and  teiiible  sons  of  the  forest  into  meek,  pure-minded 
Christians,  upon  the  one  hand,  on  the  other  the  Church  took 
and  applied  all  the  arts,  all  the  sciences,  all  the  human  agen- 
cies that  she  had, — and  they  were  powerful, — to  the  civiliz- 
ing and  refining  of  these  barbarous  men.  Then  it  was  that 
in  the  cloisters  there  sprang  up,  created  and  fostered  by  the 
Church  of  God,  the  fair  and  beautiful  arts  of  painting,  music, 
and  architecture.  I  say  created  in  the  Church.  There  are 
manv  among  you  as  well  informed  as  I  am  in  the  history  of 
our  civilization ;  and  I  ask  you  to  consider  that,  among  the 
debris  of  the  ruin  of  ancient  Rome  and  of  ancient  Greece, — 
although  we  possess  noble  monuments  of  the  ancient  archi- 
tecture,— we  have  only  the  faintest  tradition  of  their  music, 
or  their  paintings  ?  Scarcely  any  thing.  I  have  visited  the 
ruined  cities  of  Italy.  I  have  stood  within  the  walls  of 
Ostium,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber,  when,  after  hundreds  of 
years,  for  the  first  time  the  earth  was  removed,  and  the  ancient 


TEE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  ART.  55 

temples  were  revealed  again.  The  painting  is  gone,  and 
nothing  but  the  faintest  outline  remains.  Still  less  of  the 
music  of  the  ancients  have  we.  We  do  not  know  what  the 
music  of  ancient  Greece  or  of  ancient  Rome  was.  All  we 
know  is  that,  among  the  ancient  Greeks,  there  was  a  dull 
monotone  or  chorus,  struck  into  an  alternating  strain.  What 
the  nature  of  their  music  was  we  know  not.  Of  their 
sculpture,  we  have  abundant  remains ;  and,  indeed,  on  this  it 
may  be  said  that  there  has  not  been  any  modem  art  which 
has  equalled,  scarcely  approached,  the  perfection  of  the 
ancient  Grecian  model.  But  the  three  sciences  of  architec- 
ture, painting,  and  music,  have  all  sprung  from  the  cloisters 
of  the  Church.  What  is  the  source  of  all  greal;  modern 
song  ?  When  the  voice  of  the  singer  was  hushed  everywhere 
else,  it  resounded  in  the  Gregorian  chant  that  pealed  in  loud 
hosannas  through  the  long-drawn  aisles  of  the  ancient  Catho- 
lic mediaeval  churches.  It  first  came  from  the  mind — it  came 
fi'om  out  the  lo\dng  heart  of  the  holy  Pope,  Gregory,  him- 
self a  religious,  and  consecrated  to  God  as  a  monk.  Whence 
came  the  organ,  the  prince,  the  king  of  all  instruments,  the 
faithful  type  of  Christianity — of  the  Christian  congregation 
— so  varied  yet  so  hannonious,  made  up  of  a  multitude  of 
pipes  and  stops,  each  one  differing  from  the  other,  yet  all 
blending  together  into  one  solemn  harmony  of  praise,  just  as 
you,  who  come  in  here  before  tliis  altar,  each  one  full  of  his 
own  motives  and  desires — the  young,  the  old, — the  grave,  the 
gay, — rich  and  poor — each  with  his  own  desire  and  experi- 
ence of  joy,  of  sorrow,  or  of  hope, — yet  before  this  altar,  and 
within  these  walls  do  you  blend  into  one  united  and  har- 
monious act  of  faith,  of  homage,  and  of  praise  before  God. 
Whence  came  the  king  of  instruments  to  yon, — so  majestic 
in  form,  so  grand  in  its  volume, — so  symbolical  of  the  wor- 
ship which  it  bears  aloft  upon  the  wings  of  song!  In  the 
cloisters  of  the  Benedictine  monks  do  we  hear  it  for  the 
first  time.  When  the  wearied  Crusader  came  home  from 
his  Eastern  wars,  there  did  he  sit  down  to  refresh  his  soul 
with  sacred  song.  There,  during  the  solemn  Mass  of  mid- 
night, or  at  the  Cluirch's  office  at  matins, — while  he  heard  the 
solemn,  plaintive  chant  of  the  Church,  while  he  heard  the 
low-blended  notes  of  the  accompanying  organ,  skilfully 
touched  by  the  Benedictine's  hand, — then  would  his  rugged 
heart  be  melted  into  sorrow  and  the  humility  of  Christian 


56  FATHER  BURKES  ItlSCOURSES. 

forgivoncs?!.  And  tlnis  it  is  the  most  spiritualizing  and  high- 
est of  all  the  arts  and  sciences — this  heaven-born  art  of 
music.  Thus  did  the  Church  of  God  make  her  divine  and 
civilizing  ajipeal ;  and  thus  her  holy  influence  was  brought 
GUI  during  those  stormy  and  terrible  times  when  she  under- 
took the  almost  impossible  task  of  humbling  the  proud,  of 
purifying  the  unchaste,  of  civilizing  the  terrible,  the  fierce, 
and  the  blood-stained  horde  of  barbarians  that  swept,  in  their 
resistless  millions,  over  the  Homan  Empire. 

1'he  next  great  art  which  the  Church  cultivated  in  her 
cloisters,  and,  which,  in  truth,  was  created  by  her,  as  it  exists 
to-day,  was  the  art  of  painting.  Recall  the  circumstances  of 
the  time.  Printing  was  not  yet  invented.  Yet  the  people 
had  to  be  instructed, — and  not  only  to  be  instructed  but  in- 
fluenced ;  for  mere  instruction  is  not  sufiicient.  The  mere 
appeal  to  the  power  of  faith,  or  to  the  intellect  of  man,  is  not 
sufficient.  •  Therefore  did  the  Chinch  call  in  the  beautiful  art 
of  painting  ,•  and  the  holy,  consecrated  monk,  in  his  cloister, 
developed  all  the  originality  of  his  genius  and  of  his  mind 
to  reproduce  the  captivating  forms — to  reproduce,  in  silent 
but  eloquent  words,  the  mysteries  of  the  Church, — the  mys- 
teries which  the  Church  has  taught  from  her  birth.  Then 
did  the  mystery  of  the  Redemption,  the  Incarnation  of  the 
Son  of  God,  the  Angel  coming  down  from  Heaven  to  salute 
Mar\', — then  did  all  these  greet  the  eye  of  the  rude,  unlettered 
man,  and  tell  him,  in  language  more  eloquent  than  words, 
how  much  Almighty  God  in  Heaven  loved  him.  But  it  was 
necessary  for  this  that  this  art  of  painting  should  be  idealized 
to  its  very  highest  form.  It  was  necessary  that  the  paintei-'s 
hand  should  fling  round  Mary's  head  a  halo  of  virginity  and 
of  the  light  of  Heaven.  It  was  necessary  that  the  angelic 
fonn  that  saluted  her  should  have  the  transparency  of  Heaven, 
and  of  its  own  spiritual  nature,  floating,  as  it  were,  through 
it  in  material  color.  It  was  necessary  that  the  atmosphere 
that  surrounded  her,  should  be  as  that  cloudless  atmosphere 
which  is  breathed  before  the  throne  of  the  Most  High.  It 
was  necessarv  that  the  man  who  looked  upon  this  should  be 
lifted  up  from  the  thoughts  of  earth,  and  engaged  wholly  in 
the  contemplation  of  objects  of  Heaven.  Therefore,  glimpses 
of  beauty  the  most  tian  seen  dent,  aspirations  of  Heaven,  lift- 
ing up  the  soul  from  all  earthliness — from  worldliness, — were 
necessaiy.    For  all  this  the  monk  was  obliged  to  fast  and  pray 


THE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  ART.  57 

while  he  painted.  The  monk  was  obliged  to  lift  np  his  own 
thouglits,  his  own  imagination,  his  own  soul,  in  contemplation, 
and  view,  as  it  were,  the  scene  which  he  was  about  to  illus- 
trate, with  no  earthly  eye.  The  Church  alone  could  do  this : 
and  the  Church  did  it.  She  created  the  art  of  painting. 
There  was  no  tradition  in  the  Pagan  world  to  aid  the  painter; 
no  beauty — the  beauty  of  no  fair  forms,  in  all  the  fulness 
of  their  majestic  symmetry,  before  his  eyes  to  inspire  him. 
He  must  look  altogether  to  Heaven  for  his  inspiration.  And 
so  faithfully  did  he  look  up  to  Heaven's  glories,  and  so  clear 
was  the  vision  that  the  painter-monk  received  of  the  beauties 
he  depicted  on  earth,  that,  in  the  thirteenth  century,  there 
arose,  in  Florence,  a  Dominican  monk,  a  member  of  our 
Order,  beatified  by  his  virtues,  and  called  by  the  single  title 
of  "  The  Angelic  Painter."  He  illustrated  the  Holy  Trinity. 
He  put  before  the  eyes  of  the  people  all  the  great  mysteries 
of  our  faith.  And  now,  after  generations  of  ages, — after  six 
hundred  years  have  passed  away, — whenever  a  painter  or 
lover  of  art  stands  before  one  of  those  wonderful  angels  and 
saints,  painted  by  the  hand  of  the  ancient  monk,  now  in 
Heaven,  it  seems  to  him  as  if  the  very  Angels  of  God  had 
descended  from  on  high  and  stood  before  the  painter  while  he 
fixed  their  glory  in  colored  form,  as  they  appear  to  the  eye  of 
the  beholder.  It  seems  as  if  we  gazed  upon  the  blessed 
angelic  hosts;  and  as  if  Gabriel,  standing  before  Mary, 
mingled  the  joy  of  the  meeting  with  the  solenmity  of 
the  message  which  the  painter  represents  him  as  announc- 
ing. It  seems  as  if  Mary  is  seen  receiving  the  message 
of  man's  redemption  from  the  Angel,  not  as  a  woman  of 
earth,  but  as  if  she  was  the  very  personification  of  the  woman 
that  the  inspired  Evangelist,  at  Patmos,  sawi,  '^  clothed  with 
the  sun,  and  the  moon  under  her  feet,  and  on  her  head  a 
crown  of  twelve  stars."  Michael  Angelo,  the  greatest  of 
painters,  gazed  in  wonder  at  the  angels  and  saints  the 
Dominican  monk  had  painted.  Astonished  he  knelt  <lown, 
gave  thanks  to  God,  and  said :  "  The  man  that  could  have 
painted  these  must  have  seen  them  in  Heaven  ! " 

The  architecture  of  the  ancient  world,  of  Greece  and  of 
Rome,  remained.  It  was  inspired  by  a  Pagan  idea,  that 
never  rose  above  the  idea  that  inspired  it.  The  temples  of 
Athens  and  of  Rome  remain  in  all  their  shattered  glory, 
and  in  all  the  chaste  beauty   of  their  proportions.    .  Very 


58  FATHER  BUBKE S  DISCOURSES. 

remarkable  are  they,  as  arcliitectnral  studies,  for  this, — that 
they  spread  themselves  out,  and  covered  as  much  of  tlie  earth's 
space  as  possible ;  that  the  pillars  were  low  and  the  arches 
low;  and  everything  seemed  to  cling  to  and  tend  towards 
earth.  For  this  was  the  idea,  and  the  highest  idea  of  archi- 
tecture that  ever  entered  into  the  mind  of  the  greatest  of  the 
men  of  ancient  civilization.  The  monk  in  his  cloister,, 
designing  to  build  a  temple  and  a  house  for  the  living  God, 
looking  upon  the  models  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  saw 
in  them  a  grovelling  and  an  earthly  architecture.  His  mind 
was  heavenward  in  aspiration.  His  thoughts,  his  affections 
were  all  purified  by  the  life  which  he  led.  Out  of  that  up- 
w^ard  tendency  of  mind  and  heart  sprang  the  creation — the 
invention — the  new  creation — of  a  new  style  of  Christian 
architecture,  which  is  called  the  Gothic :  as  little  in  it  of  earth 
as  may  be — just  sufficient  to  serve  the  purpose  of  a  super- 
structure. The  idea  was  to  raise  it  as  high  as  possible 
towards  Heaven — to  raise  a  monument  to  Almighty  God — a 
monument  revealing  in  every  detail  of  its  architecture  the 
Divine  idea,  and  the  upward  tendency  of  the  regenerated 
heart  of  the  Christian  man.  Now,  therefore,  let  everv  arch 
be  pointed;  now,  therefore,  let  every  pillar  spring  up  as 
loftily  as  a  spire ;  now,  therefore,  let  every  niche  be  filled 
with  angels  and  saints, — some  who  were  tried  in  love — others 
-who  maintained  the  faith, — teaching  the  lesson  of  their  sanc- 
tity ; — now  pronouncing  judgment,  now  proclaiming  mercy. 
Now%  therefore,  let  the  high  tower  be  uplifted,  on  which 
swings  the  bell,  consecrated  b\^  the  blessing  of  the  Church, 
to  fling  out  upon  the  air  around,  which  trembles  as  it  receives 
its  message,  the  notes  of  Christian  joy  and  of  Christian 
sorrow.  And,  high  above  that  tower,  let  the  slender,  pointed 
spire  seek  the  clouds,  and  rear  up,  as  near  to  Heaven  as  man 
can  go,  the  symbol  of  the  Cross  on  which  Christ  redeemed 
mankind.  Such  is  the  Church's  idea ;  and  such  is  the  archi- 
tecture of  which  she  is  the  mother.  Thus  we  behold  the 
glorious  churches  of  the  middle  ages.  Thus  we  behold 
them,  in  those  ancient  and  quaint  towns  of  Belgium  and  of 
France.  We  behold  on  their  transepts,  for  instance,  a  tracery 
as  fine  as  if  it  were  wrought  and  embroidered  by  a  woman's 
hands,  with  a  strength  that  has  been  able  to  defy  the  shocks 
of  war  and  the  action  of  ages.  If  the  traveller  seeks  the 
sunny  plains  of  Italy,  he  climbs  the  snow-crowned,  solitary 


THE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  ART.  59 

Alps,  and  tliere,  after  his  steep  and  mgged  ascent,  he  beholds 
on  one  side  the  valleys  of  Switzerland,  with  its  cities  and 
lakes,-  and  he  tnrns  to  the  land  of  the  noonday  sun,  and 
sees  before  him  the  fair  and  widespread  plains  of  Lombardy. 
Tlie  great  rivers  flow  through  these  plains,  and  look  as  if 
they  were  of  molten  silver.  The  air  is  pure ;  the  sky  is  the 
sky  of  Italy.  jNIajestic  cities  dot  the  plains  at  his  feet.  But, 
among  them  all,  as  the  sun  flings  his  Italian  light  upon  the 
scene, — among  them  all,  he  beholds  one  thing  that  dazzles 
his  eyes  with  its  splendor.  There,  far  away  in  the  plains, 
within  the  gates  of  the  vast  city  of  Milan,  he  sees  a  palace 
of  white  marble  rising  up  from  the  earth  j  ten  thousand 
statues  of  Saints  around  it;  with  countless  turrets,  and  a 
spire  with  a  pinnacle  rising  towards  Heaven,  as  if  in  a  riot  of 
Christian  joy.  The  sun  sparkles  upon  it  as  if  it  were  covered 
with  the  rime  of  a  hoar  frost,  or  as  if  it  were  made  of  molten 
silver.  Possibly  his  steps  are  dra-^ii  tliither,  and  it  pleases 
him  to  enter  the  city.  Never  before — never,  even  with  the 
eye  of  the  mind — has  the  traveller  seen  so  grand  an  idea  of 
the  sacred  humanity  of  Jesus  Christ.  Here  He  reigns. 
Who  can  deny  the  historical  facts  which  I  have  narrated  ? 
Who  can  deny  that,  if  to-day  our  ear  is  charmed  with  the 
sound  of  mnsic — our  eye  delighted  with  the  contemplation 
of  paintings, — if  our  hearts  within  ns  are  lifted  up  at  the  sight 
of  some  noble  monument  of  architecture, — who  can  denv, 
with  such  facts  before  him,  that  it  was  the  Church  that 
created  these, — that  she  is  the  mother  of  these, — and  that 
she  brought  them  forth  from  out  the  chaos  and  tlie  ruin  that 
followed  the  destruction  of  the  pagan  civilization. 

Thus,  while  the  Church  w^as  their  mother,  she  was 
also  their  highest  inspiration.  For,  remember,  that  the 
zeal  in  art  may  be  taken  from  earth,  or  drawn  from  Heaven. 
Art  may  aspire  to  neither  more  nor  less  than  ^'to  hold 
the  mirror  np  to  nature."  The  painter,  for  instance,  may 
aspire  to  nothing  more  than  to  render  faithfully,  as  it  is  in 
nature,  a  herd  of  cattle,  or  a  busy  scene  in  the  town.  The 
musician  may  aspire  to  nothing  more  than  the  pleasure 
which  his  music  will  give  to  the  sense  of  the  voluptuous  in  man. 
The  architect  may  aspire  to  nothing  more  than  the  creation, 
•in  a  certain  space,  of  a  certain  symmetry  of  proportion,  and 
a  certain  usefulness  in  the  work  of  his  hands.  They  may 
"  hold  a  mirror  up   to   nature ; "   but  this   is  not  a  perfect 


60  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

idealization  of  art.  The  true  ideal  holds  the  mirror  of  its 
representation  not  onl}^  up  to  nature,  to  copy  that  nature 
faithfully,  but — higher  still — to  God,  to  catch  one  ray  of 
divine  inspiration,  one  ray  of  divine  light,  one  ray  of  heavenly 
instruction,  and  to  fling  that  pure  heavenly  light  over  the 
earthly  productions  of  his  art.  This  pious  inspiration  is  only 
to  be  found  in  the  Catholic  Church.  It  is  found  in  her  music 
— those  strains  of  hers  which  we  call  the  ^'  Gregorian  chant," 
— which,  without  producing  any  very  great  excitement  or 
pleasure,  yet  fall  upon  the  ear,  and,  through  the  ear,  upon  the 
soul,  with'  a  calming,  solemn  influence,  and  seem  to  speak  to 
the  affections  in  the  very  highest  language  of  worship. 
Plaintively  do  they  fall, — yes,  plaintively, — because  the 
Church  of  God  has  not  yet  shone  over  the  earth  in  the  fulness 
of  her  glory  :  plaintively,  because  the  object  of  her  worship 
is  mainly  to  make  reparation  to  an  offended  God  for  the 
negligence  of  the  sinner:  plaintively,  because  the  words 
which  this  music  breathes  are  the  words  of  the  penitent, 
and  the  contrite  of  heart:  plaintively, — because,  perhaps, 
my  brethren,  the  highest  privilege  of  the  Christian  here  is  a 
holy  sadness,  according  to  the  words  of  Him  w^ho  said: 
"Blessed  are  they  who  mourn  and  weep,  for  they  shall 
be  comforted." 

In  the  lapse  of  years,  the  Church  again  brought  forth 
another  method  and  gave  us  another  school,  which  expresses 
to-day  the  pious  exultation,  the  riot  of  joy,  with  which,  on 
Christmas  day,  Palsestrina  sung  before  Pope  Marcellus  in 
Rome.  Hear,  for  instance,  the  "  Magnificat,"  as  it  resounds 
within  the  Catholic  Cathedrals  at  the  hour  of  prayer.  Hear, 
for  instance,  some  of  the  hymns,  time-honored  and  ancient, 
in  which  she  breaks  in  on  an  Easter  morning,  and  which  she 
sets  to  the  words — the  triumphant  words — of  the  '^  Alleluia!" 
Who  cannot  say — who  is  there  with  trained,  sympathetic  ear 
who  hears  them,  who  cannot  say — that  the  inspiration  which 
is  in  them  is  altogether  of  Heaven — ^heavenly  : — and  that  it 
lifts  up  the  soul  to  the  contemplation  of  heavenly  themes,  and 
to  the  triumph  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  highest  insphation 
comes  through  faith. 

Let  us  turn  to  the  art  of  painting.  So  long  as  this  noble 
art  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Monk— the  man  of  God — so  long 
had  we  masterpieces  of  painting,  such  as  have  never  been 
equalled  by  any  that  since  came  forth — masterpieces  by  men 


THE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  ART.  61 

who  fasted  and  prayed,  and  looked  upon  their  task,  as  pain- 
ters, to  be  a  heavenly  and  a  holy  one.  We  read  of  the 
Blessed  Angelico,  the  Dominican  painter,  whose  works  are 
the  o-lory  of  the  world  to-day, — we  read  of  him,  that  he  never 
laid  his  brush  to  a  painting  of  the  Mother  of  God,  or  of  Our 
Lord,  except  on  the  day  when  he  had  been  at  Holy  Com- 
munion. We  read  of  him  that  he  never  painted  the  infant 
Jesus,  or  the  Crucifixion,  except  on  his  knees.  We  read  of 
him  that,  while  he  brought  out  the  divine  sorrow  in  the  Virgin 
Mother  for  the  Saviour  on  the  cross, — while  he  brought  out 
the  God-like  tribulation  of  Him  who  suflered  there, — he  was 
obliged  to  dash  the  tears  from  his  eyes — the  tears  of  love — 
the  tears  of  compassion — which  produced  the  high  inspiration 
of  his  genius.  Nay,  ihe  history  of  this  art  of  painting  teaches 
us  that  all  the  great  masters  were  eminent  as  religious  men, 
and  that  when  they  separated  from  the  Church,  as  we  see, 
their  inspiration  left  them.  The  finest  pictm-es  that  Raphael 
ever  painted  were  those  which  he  painted  in  his  youth,  while 
his  heart  was  yet  pure,  and  before  the  admiration  of  the  w'orld 
had  made  him  stain  the  integrity  of  his  soul  by  Sin.  The 
rugged,  the  almost  omnipotent  genius  of  Michael  Angelo 
was  that  of  a  man  deeply  impressed  with  faith,  and  most 
earnestly  devoted  to  the  practice  of  his  religion.  Whether 
in  the  Vatican  of  Rome,  or  over  the  high  altar  of  the  Sistine 
Chapel,  he  brings  out  all  the  terrors  of  the  Di\dne  Judgment, 
which  he  puts  there,  in  a  manner  that  makes  the  beholder 
tremble  to-day, — the  Lord  in  the  attitude,  not  of  blessing,  but 
of  sweeping  denunciation  over  the  heads  of  the  wicked, — he 
took  good  care,  by  prayer,  by  frequenting  the  Sacraments,  by 
frequent  confession  and  communion,  and  by  the  pmity  of  his 
life,  to  avert  the  punishments  that  he  painted  from  falling  on 
his  own  head.  The  most  glorious  epoch  in  the  history  of 
architecture  was  precisely  that  in  the  thirteenth  and  four- 
teenth centuries,  when  there  arose  the  minsters  of  York,  of 
Westminster ;  of  Notre  Dame,  in  Paris ;  of  Rouen,  and  all 
the  wonderful  old  churches  that,  to-day,  are  the  astonishment 
of  the  world  for  the  grandeur  and  majesty  of  their  propor- 
tions, and  the  beauty  of  design  they  reveal.  These  churches 
sprang  up  at  the  very  time  that  the  Church  alone  held  un- 
disputed sway  5  when  all  the  arts  were  in  her  hands,  and  when 
the  architects  who  built  them  were  nearly  all  consecrated 
sons  of  the  cloister.     It  is  worthy  of  remai-k  that  we  do  not 


62  FA  THER  B  URKE'S  DISCO  URSES. 

know  the  name  of  the  architect  that  built  St.  Patrick's  or 
Christ  Church,  in  Dublin.  We  do  not  know  the  name  of 
the  architect  tliat  built  Westminster  Abbey,  nor  any  ojie  of 
those  great  and  mig-hty  mediaeval  churches  throughout 
Europe.  "We  know,  indeed,  the  name  of  the  architect  who 
built  St.  Paul's  in  London,  and  of  him  who  built  St.  Petei-'s, 
in  Rome.  They  were  laymen.  The  men  who  laid  the 
foundations  (that  rarely  appear  to  the  eye)  were  Monks,  and 
are  now  in  the  dust ;  and,  in  their  humility,  they  brought 
the  secret  of  their  genius  to  the  grave,  and  no  names  of 
theirs  are  emblazoned  on  the  annals  of  the  world's  fame. 

Thus  we  see  the  highest  civilization,  the  highest  inspira- 
tion of  the  arts, — music,  painting  and  architecture, — came 
from  the  Catholic  Church, — and  that  the  most  attractive  of 
them  all  was  created  in  her  cloisters.  The  greatest  painters 
that  ever  lived  had  come  forth  from  her  bosom,  animated  by 
her  spirit.  The  greatest  chiu'ches  tliat  ever  were  built  were 
built  and  designed  by  her  consecrated  children.  The  grand 
strains  of  ecclesiastical  music,  expressing  the  highest  ideas 
resounded  in  her  cathedral  churches.  The  world  had  grown 
under  her  fostering  care.  Young  Republics  had  sprung  up 
under  the  Church's  hand  and  guidance.  The  Italian  Repub- 
lics— the  Republics  of  Florence,  of  Pisa,  of  Venice,  of 
Genoa, — all  gained  their  municipal  rights  and  rights  of  citi- 
zenship— (rights  that  were  established  for  protection,  and  to 
insure  equality  of  the  law,) — under  the  Church's  protection. 
Nay,  more.  The  Church  was  ever  willing  and  ready,  both 
by  legislation  and  by  action,  to  curb  the  petty  tyrants  that 
oppressed  the  people ;  to  oblige  the  rugged  castellan  to 
emancipate  his  slaves.  The  Church  was  ever  ready  to  send 
her  highest  representatives.  Archbishops  and  Cardinals,  into 
the  presence  of  Kings,  to  demand  the  people's  rights.  And 
the  very  man  who  wrung  the  fii'st  principles  of  the  British 
Constitution  from  an  unwilling  and  tyrannical  king,  was  the 
Catholic  Archbishop  of  Canterbury — the  only  man  who  would 
dare  to  do  it ;  for  (and  w^ell  the  tyrant  knew  it)  he  could  not 
touch  the  Archbishop,  because  the  arm  of  the  Church  was 
outstretched  for  his  protection.  Society  was  formed  under  lier 
eyes  and  under  her  care.  Her  work  now  seemed  to  be  nearly 
completed,  when  the  Almighty  God,  in  His  wisdom,  let  fall  a 
calamity  upon  the  world  j  and  I  think  you  will  agree  with 
me, — even  such  among  you  (if  there  be  any)  who  are  not 


THE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  ART.  63 

Catliolicp, — tliat  a  calamity  it  was ;  a  calamity  fell  upon  the 
world  in  the  sixteenth  century,  which  not  only  divided  the 
Church  in  faith  and  separated  nations  from  her,  but  which 
introduced  new  principles,  new  influences,  new  and  hostile 
agencies  which  were  destructive  of  the  most  sacred  rights.  I 
am  not  here  this  evening  so  much  as  a  preacher  as  a 
lecturer.  I  am  not  speaking  to  you  so  much  as  a  priest  as  a 
historian  ;  and  I  ask  you  to  consider  this : — We  are  accus- 
tomed to  hear  on  every  side  that  Protestantism  w'as  the  eman- 
cipation of  the  human  intellect  from  the  slavery  of  the  Pope. 
To  that  I  have  only  to  answer  this  one  word :  Protestantism 
substituted  the  uncertainty  of  opinion  instead  of  the  certainty 
of  faith  which  is  in  the  Catholic  Church.  Protestantism 
declared  that  there  was  no  voice  on  earth  authorized  or 
empowered  to  proclaim  the  truth  of  God  j  that  the  voice  that 
had  proclaimed  it  for  fifteen  hundred  years  had  told  a  lie  j 
that  the  people  were  not  to  accept  the  teaching  of  the  Cath- 
olic Church  as  an  authoritative  and  time-honored  law,  but  that 
they  were  to  go  out  and  look  for  the  faith  for  themselves, 
— and  in  the  worst  way  of  all.  Every  man  was  to  find  a 
faith  for  himself;  and  when  he  had  found  it,  he  had  no  satis- 
factory guarantee,  no  certainty,  that  he  had  the  true  inter- 
pretation of  the  truth.  If  this  be  emancipating  the  intellect — 
if  this  changing  of  certainty  into  uncertainty,  dogma  into 
opinion,  faith  into  a  search  after  faith,  be  emancipation  of  the 
intellect,  then  Christ  must  have  told  a  lie  when  He  said : 
^' You  shall  know  the  truth;  and  the  truth  shall  make  you 
free  !  "  The  knowledge  of  the  truth  He  declared  to  be  the 
highest  freedom :  and,  therefore,  I  hold,  not  as  a  priest,  but 
simply  as  a  philosopher,  that  the  assertion  is  false  which  says 
that  the  work  of  Protestantism  was  the  emancipation  of  the 
intellect.  All  the  results  of  modern  progress — all  the  scienti- 
fic success  and  researches  that  have  been  made — in  a  word, 
all  the  great  things  that  have  been  done — are  all  laid  down 
quietly  at  the  feet  of  Protestantism  as  the  eftects  of  this 
chang'e  of  religion.  In  England  nothing  is  more  common 
than  for  good  Protestants  to  say  that  the  reason  why  we  are 
now  in  so  civilized  a  condition  is  because  Martin  Luther  set 
up  the  Protestant  religion.  Protestantism  claims  the  electric 
telegraph.  The  Atlantic  cable  does  not  lie  so  much  in  a  bed 
of  sand  as  on  a  holy  bed  of  Protestantism  that  stretches  from 
shore  to  shore !     They  forget  that  there  is  a  philosophical 


64  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES, 

axiom  which  says :  "  One  thing  may  come  after  another,  and 
yet  it  may  not  be  caused  by  the  thing  that  went  before."  If 
one  thing  comes  after  another,  it  does  not  follow  that  it  is  the 
effect  of  the  other.  It  is  true  that  all  these  things  have 
sprung- up  in  the  world  since  Protestantism  appeared.  It  is 
perfectly  true  that  the  many  have  learned  to  read  since  Pro- 
testantism gained  ground.  But  why  ?  Is  it  because  the 
Catholic  Church  kept  the  people  in  ignorance  ?  No  :  it  was 
because  of  a  single  want.  It  was  about  the  time  Protestant- 
ism sprung  up  that  the  art  of  printing  was  invented.  Of 
course  the  many  were  not  able  to  read  when  they  had  no 
books.  The  Catholic  Church,  as  history  proves,  was  even 
far  more  zealous  than  the  Protestant  new-born  sect,  in 
multiplying  copies  of  the  Scripture  and  in  multiplying  books 
for  the  people.  Now,  one  of  the  reproaches  that  is  made  to 
us  to-day  is,  that  we  are  too  busy  in  the  cause  of  education. 
Surely  if  the  Catholic  Church  is  the  mother  of  ignorance, 
that  reproach  cannot  be  truly  made.  Now,  Protestants  are 
making  a  noise  and  saying  that  the  Church,  in  every 
country  and  on  every  .side,  is  planning  and  claiming  to 
educate.  But  all  this  is  outside  of  my  question.  My  ques- 
tion deals  with  the  fine  arts. 

Now,  mark  the  change  that  took  place !  Protestantism 
undoubtedly  weakened  the  Church's  influence  upon  society. 
Undoubtedly  it  took  out  of  the  Church's  hands  a  great  deal 
of  that  power  which  we  have  seen  the  Catholic  Church  exer- 
cise, for  more  than  a  thousand  years,  upon  the  fine  arts. 
They  claim,  or  they  set  up  a  rival  claim  of  fostering  the  arts 
of  music,  of  architecture,  and  of  painting,  so  that  these  may 
no  longer  claim  to  receive  their  special  inspiration  from  the 
Church,  which  was  their  mother  and  their  creator,  and 
through  which  they  drew  their  heavenly  genius.  Well,  the 
arts  were  thus  divided  in  their  allegiance,  and  thus  deprived 
of  their  inspiration,  by  the  institution  of  this  new  religion.  I 
ask  you  to  consider,  historically,  whether  that  inspiration  of 
art,  that  high  and  glorious  inspiration,  that  magnificent  ideal, 
was  not  destroyed  the  moment  it  was  taken  from  under  the 
guidance  and  inspiration  of  the  Catholic  Church.  I  say  that 
it  was  destroyed  ;  and  I  can  prove  it.  Since  the  day  J;hat 
Protestantism  was  founded,  the  art  of  architecture  seems  to 
have  perished.  No  great  cathedral  has  been  built.  No  great 
original  has  appeared.     No  new  idea  haa been  expressed  from 


THE  CHUECR  THE  MOTHER  OF  ART.  (55 

the  day  that  Lutlier  declared  schism  in  the  Chnrch,  and 
vrarred  against  legitimate  authority.  No  Protestant  has 
ever  originated  a  noble  model  in  modern  architecture.  It  has 
sunk  down  into  a  servile  imitation  of  the  ancient,  grovel- 
ling forms  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Nay,  whenever  the  ancient 
Gothic  piles — majestic  and  inspiring  Clnistian  churches — fell 
into  their  hands,  what  did  they  do  ?  They  pulled  them  down 
in  order  to  build  up  some  vile  Grecian  imitation ;  or  else 
they  debased  the  ancient  grandeur  and  purity  of  the  Gothic 
cathedral,  by  mixing  in  a  servile  imitation  of  some  ancient 
heathen  or  pagan  temple. 

As  to  the  art  of  painting,  the  painter  no  longer  looked  up 
to  Heaven  for  his  subject.  The  painter  no  longer  considered 
that  his  pious  idea  was  to  instruct  and  elevate  his  fellow-man. 
The  painter  no  longer  selected  for  his  subject  the  Mother  of 
God,  or  the  sacred  humanity  of  our  Lord,  or  the  Angels  and 
Saints  of  Heaven.  The  halo  of  light  that  was  shed  upon  the 
brush  of  the  blessed  Angelico, — the  halo  of  divine  light  that 
suiTOunded  the  Virgin's  face  as  it  grew  under  the  creative 
hand  of  the  young  Christian  painter, — the  halo  of  heavenly 
light  that  surrounded  the  Judge  upon  his  throne,  in  the 
fresco  of  Michael  Angelo, — this  is  to  be  found  only  in  Chris- 
tian art.  The  highest  ambition  of  the  painter,  now,  is  to 
sketch  a  landscape  true  to  nature.  The  highest  excellence 
of  art  seems  now  to  be  to  catch  the  colors  that  approach  most 
faithfully  to  the  flesh  tints  of  the  human  body.  And  it  is  a 
remarkable  fact,  my  friends,  that  the  art  of  animal  painting, — 
painting  cows  and  horses,  and  all  these  things, — began  with 
Protestantism.  One  of  the  very  fii'st  animal  painters  was 
Roos,  a  German  Protestant,  who  came  to  Rome ;  and  the 
reproach  of  his  fellow-painters  was,  "  There  is  the  man  that 
paints  the  cows  and  horses."  Even  sacred  subjects  were  dealt 
with  in  this  debased  form, — in  this  low  and  empty  inspiration. 
How  were  they  dealt  with  ?  Look,  for  instance,  at  tlie  Mag- 
dalens ;  look  at  the  Madonnas  of  Rubens.  Rubens,  himself, 
was  a  pious  Catholic ;  yet  his  paintings  displayed  the  very 
genius  of  Protestantism.  .  If  he  wanted  to  paint  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  he  selected  some  corpulent  and  gross-looking  woman, 
in  whom  he  found  some  ray  of  mere  sensual  beauty  that  struck 
his  eye ;  and  he  put  her  on  the  canvas,  and  held  her  up 
before  men  as  the  Virgin,  whose  prayer  was  to  save,  and 
whose  power  was  above  that  of  the  angels  !     The  artist  who 


66  FATHER  BUBKWS  DISCOURSES. 

would  truly  represent  her  on  canvas,  must  have  his  pencils 
touched  with  the  purity  and  grandeur  of  Heaven. 

Music  lost  its  inspiration  when  it  fell  from  under  the  guid- 
ance of  the  Church.  No  longer  were  its  strains  the  echoes 
of  Heaven.  No  longer  is  the  burden  of  the  hymn  the  heav-' 
enlv  aspiration  of  the  human  soul,  tending  towards  its  last 
and  final  beatitude.  Oh,  no  !  but  every  development  that 
this  high  and  heavenly  science  receives  is  a  simple  degrada- 
ti(jn  into  the  celebration  of  human  passion  5  into  the  magnify- 
ing of  human  pride  :  into  the  illustration  of  all  that  is  worst 
and  vilest  in  man  ;  and  the  highest  theme  of  the  musician  to- 
day is  not  the  '^ Dies  Irce" — an  expression,  as  it  were,  of  the 
prayers  of  the  Angels  in  Heaven  for  the  dead ; — it  is  not  the 
^^Siabat  Mater, ^^  the  wailing  voice  of  the  Virgin's  sorrow  j  it 
is  not  the  ^^Alleluia,^^  to  proclaim  to  the  world  the  glories  of 
the  risen  G-od :  no,  the  highest  theme  of  the  musician  to-day 
is  to  take  up  some  story  of  sensual,  and  merely  human,  love; 
to  set  that  forth  with  all  the  charms  and  all  the  meretricious 
embellishments  of  art. 

Thus  do  we  behold,  in  our  own  experience  of  to-day,  how 
the  arts  went  down  and  lost  their  inspiration,  as  soon  as 
there  were  taken  from  them  the  genius  and  the  inspiring 
influence  of  the  Church  that  created  them,  and  through  them 
civilized  the  world,  and  brought  to  us  whatever  we  have  of 
civilization  and  refinement  in  this  nineteenth  century. 
Thank  God,  the  reign  of  evil  cannot  last  long  upon  this 
earth.  It  is  one  of  the  mysterious  circumstances  that  the 
coming  of  our  Lord  developed.  Before  the  Incarnation  of 
the  Son  of  God,  an  evil  idea  seemed  to  be  in  the  nature  of 
man.  It  propagated  itself,  it  found  a  home,  and  an  abiding 
dwelling  among  the  children  of  men.  But  since  the  Incar- 
nation of  the  Son  of  God,  since  the  Eternal  Word  of  God 
vouchsafed  to  take  a  human  soul,  a  human  body,  human 
sensibilities,  and,  I  will  add,  human  genius, — since  that  time 
the  base  and  the  vile,  and  the  ephemeral,  and  the  degraded, 
may  come ;  may  debase  art  and  artists,  may  spoil  the  spirit 
of  art  for  a  time;  but  it  cannot  last  very  long.  There  is  a 
native  force,  a  nobleness  in  the  soul  of  man  that  rises  in 
revolt  against  it. 

And  to-day,  even  to-day,  the  hour  of  revival  seems 
to  be  coming, — almost  arrived, — is  already  come.  The 
thi-ee  arts,  of  Painting,  of  Music,  and    Architecture,    seem 


THE  CHURCH  THE  MOTHER  OF  ART.  67 

to  be  rising  with  their  fomier  inspiration,  and  seem  to 
catch  again  a  little  of  the  departed  light  that  was  shed 
on  them  and  flowed  through  them,  from  religion.  Archi- 
tectm-e  revives,  and  the  glories  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
though  certainly  they  may  not  be  eclipsed,  yet  they  are 
almost  equalled  by  the  glories  of  the  nineteenth.  But  a 
short  distance  from  this,  you  see,  in  the  middle  of  this  great 
city,  rising  in  its  wonderful  beauty,  that  which  promises  to 
be,  and  is  to  be,  of  all  the  glories  of  this  city,  the  most 
glorious, — the  great  Cathedral.  Across  the  water,  you  see 
in  the  neighboring  cit}''  of  Brooklyn  the  fair  and  magnifi- 
cent proportions  of  that  which  will  be,  in  a  few  years,  the 
glory  of  that  adjacent  shore,  when  on  this  side,  and  on  that, 
each  tower  and  spire  and  pinnacle  upholding  an  Angel  or 
Saint,  the  highest  of  all  will  uphold  the  Cross  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Music  is  reviving  again, — catching  again  the  pure  spirit 
of  the  past.  A  taste  for  the  serene,  the  pure,  the  most 
spiritual  songs  of  the  Church,  is  every  day  gaining  ground, 
and  taking  hold  of  the  imagination.  Painting,  thank  God, 
is  reviving  again,  and  of  this  you  have  here  abundant 
proof.  Look  around  you  !  No  gross,  earthly  figure  stands 
out  in  the  bare  proportions  of  flesh  and  blood.  No  vile 
exposure  of  the  mere  flesh  invites  the  eye  of  the  voluptuous 
to  feast  itself  upon  the  sight.  The  purity  of  God  is  here. 
The  purity  of  the  Church  of  God  overhangs  it  5  and  the 
story  of  these  scenes  will  go  home  to  your  hearts  and  to 
the  hearts  of  your  children,  as  the  story  that  the  blessed 
Anorelico  told  in  Florence  six  hundred  vears  as^o.  Thanks 
be  to  God,  it  is  so  !  Thanks  be  to  God,  that,  when  I  lift 
up  my  ej^es,  I  may  see  so  much  of  the  purity  of  the  face 
down  which  flow  the  last  tears  of  blood  !  When  I  lift  up 
mine  eyes  here,  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  stood  bodily  in  the 
holy  society  of  these  men.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  see  in  the 
face  of  John  the  expression  of  the  highest  manly  sympathy 
that  comforted  and  consoled  the  dying  eyes  of  the  Saviour. 
It  seems  to  me  that  I  behold  the  Blessed  Virgin,  whose 
maternal  heart  consented,  in  that  hour  of  agony,  to  be 
broken  for  the  sins  of  men.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  behold 
the  Magdalen,  as  she  clings  to  the  Cross,  and  receives,  upon 
that  hair  with  which  she  wiped  His  feet,  the  drops  of  His 
blood.     It  seems  to  me  that  I  behold  that  heai't,  humbled 


68  FA  THEB  B  UBKE'S  DISCO  UESES. 

in  penance  and  inflamed  with  love — the  heart  of  the  woman 
who  had  loved  much,  and  for  whom  He  had  prayed.  It 
seems  to  me  that  I  travel  step  by  step  to  Calvary,  and 
learn,  as  they  unite  in  Him,  every  lesson  of  snfiering,  of 
peace,  of  hope,  of  joy,  and  of  divine  love !  Thank  God, 
it  is  fitting,  in  a  Dominican  Church,  that  this  should  he  so  ! 
It  is  fitting,  in  a  temple  of  my  Order,  that,  when  I  look 
upon  the  image  of  my  holy  Father  over  that  entrance, 
in  imagination,  and  without  an  effort,  I  travel  hack  to  the 
spot  where  I  had  the  happiness  to  live  my  student's  days,  and 
where,  in  the  very  cell  in  which  I  dwelt,  I  beheld,  from 
Angelico's  own  hand,  one  glorious  specimen  of  his  art.  These 
are  the  gladness  of  our  eyes,  the  joy  of  our  hearts.  They 
give  us  reason  to  rejoice  with  Him  who  said  :  "I  have  loved, 
0  Lord,  the  beauty  of  Thy  house,  and  the  place  where  Thy 
glory  dwelleth."  They  give  us  reason  to  rejoice  because 
they  are  not  only  fair  and  beautiful  in  themselves,  but  they 
are  also  the  guarantee  and.  the  promise  that  the  traditions  of 
ecclesiastical  painting,  sculpture,  architecture  and  music  in 
this  new  country,  shall  yet  come  out  and  rival  all  the  glories 
of  the  nations  that  for  centuries  and  centuries  have  upheld 
the  Cross.  They  are  a  cause  of  gladness  to  us ;  for,  ^^hen 
we  shall  have  passed  away,  our  children,  and  our  children's 
children  shall  come  here,  and,  in  reviewing  these  pictures, 
shall  learn  to  feel  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Among  the  traditions  of  one  of  the  old  cities  of  Belgium, 
there  is  one  of  a  little  boy,  who  grew  up,  visiting  every  day 
the  Cathedral  of  the  city.  One  day  he  stood  with  wondering 
and  childlike  eyes  before  a  beautiful  painting  of  the  infant 
Jesus.  According  as  time  went  on,  and  reason  grew  upon 
him,  his  love  for  the  picture  became  greater  and  greater; 
and  when  he  became  a  man,  his  love  for  it  was  so  great 
that  he  spent  his  days  in  the  Cathedral  as  organist,  pealing 
forth  the  praises  of  the  Son  of  God.  His  manhood  went  down 
into  the  vale  of  years ;  but  his  love  for  the  picture  was  still  the 
one  child-love — the  young  love  and  passion  of  his  heart. 
And  so  he  lived,  a  child  of  art,  and  died  in  the  odor  of  sanc- 
tity, a  child  of  God.  And  that  art  had  falfilled  its 
highest  mission,  for  it  had  sanctified  the  soul  of  a  man. 
Oh,  may  these  pictures,  that  we  look  upon  with  so 
much  pleasure,,  teach  to  you,  and  to  your  children 
after   you,  the   lesson  they  are   intended   to  teach,  of   the 


TEE  CHUBCR  THE  MOTHER  OF  AET.  69 

love,  of  the  charity,  of  the  mercy  of  Jesus;  that — loving  Him 
and  loving  the  beauty  of  His  house,  and  catching  every  gleam 
that  faith  reveals  of  her  higher  beauty,  and  every  thing  that 
speaks  of  Him  for  ever — you  may  come  to  behold  Him  as  He 
shines  in  the  uncreated  light  and  majesty  of  His  glory ! 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELIST. 

\^A  Sermon  delivered  by  the    Very  Rev.   T.  N.  Burke,  O.P.,  in    the 
Dominican  Church,  New  York,  on  Sunday,  March  2i,  1872.] 

I  TOLD  you  this  morning-,  my  brethren,  that  we  should  con- 
fine our  attention,  during  the  next  few  days,  to  the  groupings 
that  surrounded  our  Blessed  Lord  upon  the  Hill  of  Calvary. 
I  then  intended,  this  evening,  to  put  before  you  the  various 
characters  and  classes  of  men  who  were  there  as  the  enemies 
of  God.  I  must,  however,  alter  somewhat  this  programme. 
To-morrow  will  be  the  Feast  of  the  Annunciation  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin — one  of  the  greatest  festivals  of  the  Christian 
year — commemorating  a  mystery  from  which  all  the  mys- 
teries of  our  redemption  have  flown.  It  will  be  held,  as  you 
are  aware,  as  of  obligation  ;  and,  therefore,  I  shall  be  obliged 
so  far  to  depart  from  my  original  design,  as  to  let  in,  to- 
morrow evening,  a  sermon  on  the  great  festival  of  the  day — 
the  Annunciation  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  Thus  far  I  must 
interfere  with  the  plan  I  have  laid  down,  and  this  will  oblige 
me,  this  evening,  simply  to  notice  briefly  the  difl"erent  groups 
and  classes  by  which  the  enemies  of  our  Divine  Lord  were 
represented  upon  Calvary.  We  shall  pass,  at  once,  to  the 
consideration  of  the  man  who  stood  there  as  the  friend  of  his 
dying  Lord  and  Saviom\ 

There  were  many  classes  of  men  surrounding  our  Blessed 
Lord  on  that  fearful  and  tenible  journey,  when,  starting  from 
the  house  of  the  High  Priest,  Annas,  He  turned  His  face 
towards  Calvary,  and  set  out  upon  the  dolorous  "  Way  of 
the  Cross."  The  men  who,  sitting  in  that  tribunal,  had  con- 
demned Him,  were  not  satisfied  with  that  sentence  ;  but,  in 
the  eagerness  of  their  revenge,  they  would  fain  witness  His 
execution  ;  following  out  the  expres^d  word  of  the  Evange- 
list, that  the  Scribes  and  l*harisees  followed  our  Lord,  and 
fed  their  revengeful  eyes  upon  the  contemplation  of  His  three 
hours  of  agony  on  the  Cross.  The  immediate  agents  of  this 
terrible  act  of  execution  were  the  Eoman  soldiers  of  the 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELIST  71 

cohort  who  had  scourged  Him,  who  had  crowned  Him 
with  thorns,  and  who  accompanied  Him  with  stolid  indiffer- 
ence to  the  place  of  his  execution.  They  were  the  pagans. 
They  were  men  who  had  never  heard  of  the  name  of 
God.  They  were  men  who,  had  they  heard  of  it,  must 
have  heard  of  it,  if  at  all,  in  a  language  which  they  scarcely 
understood,  and  which  was  the  medium  of  the  common  record 
of  what  were  called  "  the  wonders," — that  is,  of  the  miracles 
of  Christ.  But  it  scarcely  stirred  up  in  them  even  a  natural 
curiosity ;  and,  therefore,  they  brought  him  to  execution,  as 
they  would  have  dragged  any  other  criminal ;  with  this  one 
exception,  that,  by  a  strange,  diabolical  possession,  they 
looked  upon  this  man,  of  whom  they  knew  nothing, — upon 
this  man  who  had  never  injured  them  in  word  or  in  deed, — 
with  intense  abhorrence,  and  hated  him  with  an  inexplicable 
hatred.  They  thus  typified  the  nations  which,  in  the  old  law, 
knew  not  the  Lord  of  Truth.  In  paganism,  in  the  darkness 
of  the  wickedness  of  their  infidelity,  they  know  not  the  name 
of  God.  When  that  name  is  pronounced  in  their  presence,  it 
falls  upon  their  ears  rather  as  the  name  of  an  enemy  than 
that  of  a  friend.  They  cannot  explain  why  they  hate  Him. 
No  more  can  we  explain  the  hatred  of  the  Roman  soldiers. 
The  missionary  goes  forth  to-day  in  all  the  power  of  the 
priesthood  of  Christ.  He  stands  in  the  presence  of  the  people 
of  China  or  of  Japan.  As  long  as  he  speaks  to  them  of 
the  civilization,  of  the  immense  military  power,  of  the  riches 
and  of  the  glory  of  the  country  from  which  he  comes,  they 
hear  him  willingly  and  wath  interested  ears.  As  long  as  he 
reveals  to  them  any  secret  of  human  science,  they  make  use 
of  him,  they  are  glad  to  receive  him.  Thus  it  is,  we  know, 
that  some  of  the  Jesuit  missionaries  held  the  very  highest 
places  at  the  court  of  the  Emperor  of  China.  But  as  soon  as 
ever  the  missionary  mentions  the  name  of  Christ,  they  not 
only  refuse  to  hear  him,  but  they  are  stirred  up  on  the  instant 
with  diabolical  rage  ;  hate  and  anger  flash  from  iheir  eyes  j 
they  lay  hold  of  the  messenger  who  briugeth  them  the  mes- 
sage of  peace  and  love,  and  of  eternal  life ;  and  they  imag- 
ine they  have  not  fulfilled  their  duty  until  they  have  shed  his 
heart's  blood  upon  the  spot.  Oh,  how  vast  is  the  crowd  of 
those  who,  for  centuries,  have  thus  greeted  the  Son  of  God 
and  every  man  who  speaks  in  His  name  !  Think  of  the  out- 
lying millions,  to  whom,  for  eighteen  hundred  years  and  more, 


72  FA  THEB  B  UBKE'S  DISCO  UBSES. 

the  Church — the  messenger  of  God — has  preached  and  ap- 
pealed, but  in  vain  !  Behold  the  class  that  was  represented 
round  the  Cross,  lifting  up  indifferent,  stolid,  or,  if  any  thing, 
scowling  faces,  amid  the  woes  of  Him  who,  in  that  h<mr  of  His 
agony  and  of  His  humiliation,  mingled  His  prayers  for  forgive- 
ness with  the  last  drop  of  blood  that  flowed  through  l£is 
wounds  from  His  dying  heart ! 

There  is  another  class  there.  It  is  made  up  of  those  who 
knew  Him  well,  or  who  ought  to  have  known  Him.  They 
had  seen  His  miracles  ,•  they  had  witnessed  His  sanctity  j  they 
had  disputed  with  Him  upon  the  lav\'S,  until  He  had  convinced 
them  that  His  was  the  wisdom  that  could  not  belong  to  man, 
but  to  God.  He  had  silenced  them.  He  had  answered  every 
argument  that  foolhardy  and  audacious  men  made  to  Him. 
He  had  reduced  them  to  such  shame  that  no  man  ever  wanted 
to  question  Him  again.  But  He  interfered  with  their  interests 
and  their  pride.  That  pride  revolted  against  submitting  to 
Him.  That  self-lov^e  and  self-interest  prompted  the  thought 
that,  if  He  lived.  His  light  would  outshine  theirs,  and  their  in- 
fluence with  the  people  would  be  gone.  These  were  the  Scribes 
and  the  Pliarisees.  They  were  the  leaders  of  the  people. 
They  were  the  magistrates  of  Jerusalem.  They  were  the 
men  whose  loud  voice  and  authoritative  tones  were  heard  in 
the  Temple.  They  were  the  men  who  walked  into  that 
house  as  if  it  was  not  the  house  of  God,  but  their  house. 
They  were  the  men  who  walked  fearlessly  up  to  the  altar,  to 
speak  words  of  blasphemous  pride,  and  call  them  prayers. 
They  were  the  men  who  despised  the  humble  Publican 
making  his  act  of  contrition.  They  were  the  men  who  lifted 
theh  virtuous  hands  and  hypocritical  eyes  to  Heaven  to  lament 
over  the  weakness  of  human  nature.  They  were  the  men 
who  hated  Christ,  because  they  could  not  argue  with  Him — 
because  they  could  not  uphold  their  errors  against  His  truth — 
because  they  could  not  hold  their  own,  but  were  struck  dumb 
at  the  sight  of  His  sanctity  and  the  so'und  of  His  powerful 
voice.  What  did  they  do?  They  began  to  tell  lies  to  the 
people.  They  began  to  tell  the  people  how  He  was  an  im- 
postor and  a  blasphemer.  They  began  to  mislead  the 
people, — to  warp  the  estimate  that  people  might  make  of 
Christ !  They  endeavored  to  find  false  witnesses  to  bring 
them  to  swear  away,  fii'st,  His  character  and,  then,  His  life. 
Ah!    need    I    say  whom    they   represent?     Need   I   tell   a 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELISt  73 

people  in  whose  memories  is  fresli  to-day  tlie  ever  recur- 
ring lie  tbat  is  flung  in  the  face  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
— the  ever-recun'ing  false  testimony  that  is  brought  against 
her, — the  burning  of  her  churches,  the  defiling  of  her  altars, 
the  outrages  on  her  priests, — the  insults  heaped  upon  her 
holy  nuns,  the  people  inflamed  against  the  very  name  of  Cath- 
olicity itself,  so  that  the  word  might  be  fulfilled  of  Him  who 
said :  "  They  shall  cast  out  your  very  name  as  evil  for  My 
sake"?  The  men  who  made  the  very  name  of  a  Monk,  or  a 
Friar,  or  a  Jesuit  mean  something  awfully  gross,  or  sensual, 
or  material,  were  naturally  worldly  and  deceitful.  I  need 
not  point  out  to  you  that,  in  the  midst  of  you,  and  every 
day,  from  their  pulpits,  from  their  conventicles,  through 
their  daily  press — every  day  we  are  made  familiar  with  the 
old  lie,  shifted  and  changed,  tortured,  distorted,  and  twisted, 
and  the  false  testimony  brought  out  in  a  thousand  forms 
of  falsehood. 

And  there  were  others  who  believed  in  Christ — who 
knew  Him — who  had  enjoyed  His  conversation  and  His 
friendship,  and  who  were  afraid  to  be  seen  in  His  com- 
pany in  that  dark  hour,  and  upon  that  hill  of  shame. 
Where  were  the  Apostles?  Where  were  the  Disciples? 
They  had  fled  from  their  Master  because  it  was  dangerous  to 
be  seen  with  Him  !  Judas,  the  representative  of  the  man  who 
sells  his  religion  and  his  God  for  this. world j  who  sells 
his  conscience  in  order  to  fill  his  purse;  who  sells  every 
thing  that  is  most  sacred  when  that  demand  is  made  upon 
him  for  temporal  profit  and  pelf ;  who  seals  his  iniquity  by  a 
bad  communion,  in  order  to  save  appearances ;  while  with 
one  hand  he  was  taking  money  from  the  Pharisees,  with  the 
other  hand  he  was  taking  Christ  to  his  breast  j — the  man 
who  played  a  double  part — the  man  who  did  not  wish  to 
break  utterly  with  his  Lord,  nor  to  sacrifice  the  good  opinion 
of  his  fellow-apostles ;  and,  therefore,  he  received  damnation 
to  himself  in  a  bad  communion ; — he  does  not  dare  to  climb 
the  rugged  steep  of  Calvary;  but  he  stands  afar  ofl':  and  the 
vision  that  he  sees,  of  so  much  sorrow,  so  much  suflering ; — 
the  vision  that  he  sees  passing  before  his  eyes  is  his  Lord,  his 
Master  in  whom  he  still  believes,  though  he  has  betrayed 
Him ;  his  Lord,  his  Master,  torn  with  scourges  from  head  to 
foot ;  crowned  with  thorns ;  disguised  in  His  own  blood  ; 
blinded  with  the  blood  that  was  flowing  down  from  every 

4 


74  FATHER  BUEKWS  DISCOURSED. 

wonnrl  in  Ilis  sacred  brow  : — Lis  Lord  and  his  Master,  who 
had  so  often  spoken  to. him  words  of  friendship  and  of  love  j 
pa^^sed  hefore  the  eyes  of  the  renegade  and  traitor.  As  he 
looked,  and  his  eyes  caught,  for  an  instant,  the  countenance 
of  that  figure  tottering  ahnig  in  weakness  and  in  pain, — the 
sio-lit  brought  back  remembrance  of  the  days  that  were  gone, 
AvUh  no  glimmering  of  hope,  no  light  of  consolaticm  to  his 
soul,  but^only  the  feeling  that  he  had  betrayed  his  God,  and 
that  he  held  then,  in  his  infamous  purse,  the  money  for  which 
he  had  sold  his  soul  and  his  conscience.  He  stood  aghast  and 
pale.  He  tore  his  hair  and  wTung  his  hands.  He  found  that 
he  could  not  live  to  see  the  consummation  of  his  iniquity  j 
and,  before  the  Saviour  had  sent  forth  the  last  cry  for  a  re- 
deemed world,  the  soul  of  the  suicide  Judas  had  gone  down 
to  hell !  '^  It  were  better  for  him  had  he  never  been  born  !" 
Does  he  represent  any  class  ?  Are  there  not  in  this  world 
men  who  are  almost  glad  to  have  something  to  baiier  with 
the  world,  when  they  give  np  their  holy  faith  and  religion  in 
order  to  clutch  this  world's  possessions  ?  Have  we  not  read 
in  the  history  of  the  nations — in  the  history  of  the  land  from 
which  most  of  us  sprang — have  we  never  read  of  men  selling 
their  faith  for  this  world's  riches  and  this  world's  honors  ? 
Have  we  never  read,  in  the  history  of  the  world,  of  men  who, 
in  order  to  save  appearances,  approached  the  holy  altar  and 
received  the  holy  communion "?  Of  monarchs  who,  in  order 
to  stand  well  with  their  Catholic  subjects,  made  a  show  of 
going  to  hoh'-  communion  ?  And  of  sycophants  and  court- 
iers who,  in  order  to  please  a  king,  in  a  fit  of  piety  or  a  fit  of 
repentance,  went  to  holy  communion"?  But  time  will  not 
peimit  me  to  linger  in  the  contemplation  of  the  many  classes 
of  the  worldly-minded ;  the  false  friend,  the  bitter,  though 
conscious,  enemy ;  the  heartless  executioners  j  the  exact  re- 
presentatives of  those  who  crowded  round  the  Cross  in  that 
ten'ible  hour. 

But  there  was  one  there ; — and  it  is  to  that  one  that  my 
thoughts  and  my  heart  turn  this  night, — there  was  one  there 
who  was  destined  to  be,  through  all  ages,  and  unto  all  nations, 
a  type  of  what  the  true  Christian  man — the  friend  of  Christ, 
must  be ;  a  true  representative  of  the  part  that  he  must  play, 
in  the  sacrifice  that,  from  time  to  time,  he  must  make,  to  test 
the  strength  and  the  tenderness  of  his  love.  There  was  one 
there,  young  and  beautiful,  who  did  not  flinch  from  his  Mas- 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELIST.  75 

ter  and  Lord  in  that  hour ;  who  walked  by  His  side ;  who 
shared  in  the  reproaches  that  were  showered  upon  the  head 
of  the  Son  of  God,  and  took  his  shcire  of  tlie  grief  and  the 
shame  of  that  terrible  morning  of  Good  Friday.  Tliere  was 
one  there,  whom  ihe  Master  permitted  to  be  there,  that  he 
might,  as  it  were,  lean  upon  the  strength  of  his  manliood  and 
tlie  fearlessness  of  his  love.  That  one  was  John,  the  Evan- 
gelist. Behold  him,  as  with  virginal  eyes,  he  looks  up  as  a 
man  to  his  fellow-man  on  the  Cross  !  Behold  him  as  he  seems 
to  say  :  "  Oh,  Master  !  Oh,  Lover  of  my  soul  and  heart !  can  I 
relieve  j^ou  of  a  single  sorrow  by  taking  it  up  and  making  it 
my  own?'^  This  was  John.  Consider  who  he  was,  and 
what.  Three  graces  surrounded  him  as  he  stood  at  the  foot 
of  the  Cross.  Three  divine  gifts  formed  a  halo  of  heavenly 
light  around  his  head.  They  were  the  grace  of  Christian 
purity,  the  grace  of  divine  love,  and  the  manliness  of  the 
bravery  that  despises  the  world,  when  it  is  a  question  of  giv- 
ing testimony  of  love  and  of  fidelity  to  his  God  and  his 
Saviour; — three  noble  gifts,  with  which  the  world  is  so  ill- 
supplied  to-day  !  Oh,  my  brethren,  need  I  tell  you  that,  of 
all  the  evils  in  this  our  day,  there  is  one  which  has  arrived 
at  such  enormous  proportions  that  it  has  received  the  name 
of  '-The  Social  Evil!" — the  evil  which  finds  its  way  into 
every  rank  and  every  grade  of  societ}^;  the  evil  which,  raising 
its  miscreated  head,  now  and  again  frightens  us,  and  terrifies 
the  very  world  by  the  evidence  of  its  widespread  pestilence ; 
— the  evil  that,  to-day,  pollutes  the  hearts,  destroys  the  souls 
of  the  young,  and  shakes  our  nature  and  our  manliness  to  its 
very  foundations,  and  brings  down  the  indignant  and  the 
sweeping  curse  of  God  upon  whole  nations?  Need  I  tell 
you  that  that  evil  is  the  terrible  evil  of  impurity, — the  unre- 
strained passion,  the  foul  imagination,  the  debased  and 
degraded  cravings  of  this  material  flesh  and  blood  of  ours, 
rising  up  in  rebellion,  and  declaring,  in  its  inflamed  desires, 
that  nothing  of  God's  law,  nothing  of  God's  redemption  shall 
move  it ;  that  all,  all  may  perish,  but  that  it  must  be  satiated 
and  gorged  with  that  food  of  lust,  of  which,  says  the  holy 
Apostle,  "  the  taste  is  death."  Of  tliis  I  have  already  spoken 
to  you,  and  also  of  the  opposite  virtue,  the  ''index"  virtue, 
as  it  is  called — the  virtue  of  virtues  ;  of  that  I  have  also 
spoken  to  you,  that  by  which  lost  man  is  raised  up  to  the 
very  perfection  of  his  spiritual  nature ;  by  which  the  Divine 


76  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

effulgence  of  the  highest  resemblance  to  Christ  is  impressed 
upon  the  soul ;  by  which  the  brightness  of  the  Virgin,  and 
of  the  Virgin's  Son,  seems  to  pass  forth,  even  from  His  body, 
and  sink  into  the  soul's  tissues,  until  it  becomes  divine. 
Such  virtue  of  angelic  purit\^  did  Christ,  our  Lord,  come  to 
establish  upon  eartli.  Such  virtue  did  He  lay  as  the  found- 
ation of  His  Church,  in  a  chaste  and  a  virginal  priesthood  ; 
in  the  foundations  of  society,  in  a  chaste  and  pure  manhood, 
preserving  the  integrity  of  the  soul  in  the  purity  of  the  body. 
Such  virtue  belonged  to  John,  ''^tlie  Disciple  of  love;"  and 
it  belonged  to  him  in  its  highest  phase;  for,  as  the  Holy 
Fathers, — and  the  intei-preters  of  the  Church's  traditions  from 
the  very  beginning,  and  notably,  St.  Peter  Datnascus,  tell 
us, — John  the  Evangelist  was  a  virgin  from  the  cradle  to 
the  grave.  No  thought  of  human  love  ever  flashed  through 
his  mind.  No  angry  uprising  of  human  passion  ever  dis- 
turbed the  equable  nature  of  his  heavenly-tempered  soul  and 
body.  He  was  the  youngest  of  all  the  Apostles ;  and  he 
was  little  more  than  a  youth  when  the  virgin-creating  eyes 
of  Christ  fell  upon  him.  Christ  looked  upon  him,  and  saw 
a  virginal  body,  fair  and  beautiful  in  its  translucent  purity 
of  innocence.  He,  the  Creator  and  Redeemer,  saw  a  soul 
pure,  and  bright,  and  unstained, — a  soul  just  opening  into 
manliood,  and  in  the  full  possession  of  all  its  powers,  and  a 
tender,  yet  a  most  pure  heart,  unfolding  itself.  Even  as  the 
lily  bursts  forth  and  unfolds  its  white  leaves  to  gather  in 
its  calyx  the  dews  of  Heaven,  like  diamond  drops  in  its 
heart  of  glorious  innocence, — so  did  our  Lord  behold  the 
fair  soul  of  John.  In  his  earliest  youth,  the  words  of  in- 
vitation dropped  in  that  vu-gin  ear ;  and  in  that  virgin  soul 
those  graces  of  apostleship,  of  love,  of  tenderness,  and  of 
strength,  that  lay  there,  among  these  petals  of  glor}^,  brought 
forth,  in  the  soul  of  the  young  man,  all  that  was  radiant  with 
tbe  most  Christ-like  virtue.  A  virgin — that  is  to  say,  one 
who  never  let  a  thought  of  his  mind,  nor  an  affection  of  his 
heart  stray  from  the  highest  form  of  divine  love, — thus  was 
he  before  he  had  beheld  the  face  of  his  Redeemer.  But 
when,  to  that  virginal  purity,  which  naturally  seeks  the 
love  of  God  in  its  highest  form,  that  God  made  Himself 
visible  to  it  in  the  shape  of  the  sacred  humanity  of  our  Lord : 
W'lien  the  virgin's  King,  the  Prince,  and  the  leader  of  the 
virgin's  choir  in  Heaven,  presented  Himself  to  the  eyes  of 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELIST.  77 

the  young  Apostle  5 — oh,  then,  with  the  instinct  of  purity, 
his  heart  seemed  to  go  forth  from  him,  and  to  seek  the  heart 
of  Christ.  And  so  it  was  for  three  years,  under  the  purifying 
eyes  of  our  Lord,  He  lived  for  three  years,  in  tte  most 
intimate  communion  of  love  with  his  Master ;  distinguished 
from  all  the  other  Apostles,  of  whom  we  do  not  know  that 
any  one  of  them,  was  a  virgin,  but  only  John  5  distinguished 
from  them,  by  being  admitted,  through  his  privileged, 
virginal  purity,  into  the  inner  chambers  of  the  heart  of 
Christ.  Thus,  when  our  Lord  appeared  to  the  Apostles 
upon  the  waters,  all  the  others  shrank  from  Him,  terrified ; 
and  they  said  to  each  other,  "  It  is  a  ghost !  It  is  an 
appearance  !  "  John  looked,  and  instantly  recognized  his 
Master  J  and  said  to  Peter;  ^'  Do  not  be  afraid  !  It  is  the 
Lord."  Whereupon,  St.  Jerome  says : — "  What  eyes  were 
those  of  John,  that  could  see  that  which  others  could  not 
see  ?  Oh,  it  was  the  eye  of  a  virgin  recognizing  a  virgin  !  " 
So  it  was  that  a  certain,  tacit  privilege  was  granted  to  John, 
as  is  seen  in  the  conduct  of  the  Apostles  themselves.  Peter, 
certainly,  was  honored  above  all  the  others  by  getting  prece- 
dence and  supremacy;  by  being  appointed  the  Vicar  and 
Representative  of  his  Master ;  in  other  words,  "  the  Head 
of  the  Apostles."  But  this  was  preceded  by  the  severest 
tests.  He  was  tried, — nay  more,  the  heart  of  Peter  was 
sounded  to  the  very  depths  of  its  capacity  and  of  its  love, 
before  Christ,  our  Lord,  appointed  him  as  His  representative. 
Tliree  times  did  he  ask  him,  "  Simon,  son  of  John,  lovest 
thou  Me  ? "  Again  in  the  presence  of  John,  "  Lovest  thou 
Me,  Peter,  more  than  these?"  "More  than  these;  more 
than  the  men  who  are  present  before  Me,  and  of  whom  I 
speak  to  you."  And  Peter  was  confirmed  in  that  hour,  and 
rose,  by  divine  grace,  to  a  height  in  the  sight  of  his  Divine 
Master,  greater  than  any  ever  attained  by  man.  It  is  not 
the  heart  of  the  man  loving  the  Lord ;  but  it  is  the  heart  of 
the  Lord  loving  the  man.  So,  Peter  was  called  upon  to 
love  his  Lord  more  than  the  others ;  but  the  tenderest  love 
of  his  Divine  Master  was  the  privilege  of  John.  He  was 
'>  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved."  And  well  did  his  fellow- 
Apostles  know  it.  What  a  privilege  was  not  that  which 
was  given  to  John  at  the  Last  Supper,  because  of  his 
virginal  purity  !  ^Lhere  was  the  Master,  and  there  were 
the   disciples   around   Him.     There    was    the    man    whom 


78  FATHER  BVIiKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

he  destined  to  be  the  first  Pope, — the  representative  of 
His  pt)\ver  and  the  head  of  His  followers.  Did  Peter 
get  the  first  place  ?  No.  The  first  place, — the  place  next 
to  the  left  sitle, — nearest  the  dear  heart-side, — was  the 
privilege  of  John.  And, — oh !  ineffable  dignity  vouch- 
safed by  our  Saviour  to  His  virgin  friend  ! — the  head  of  the 
Disciple  was  laid  upon  the  breast  of  the  Master!  and  the 
human  ear  of  John  heard  the  pulsations  of  the  virginal  heart 
of  Christ,  the  Lord  of  earth  and  Heaven !  Between  those 
two,  in  life,  you  may  easily  see  in  this  and  other  such  traits 
recorded  in  the  Gospel, — between  these  two — the  Master  and 
the  "disciple  whom  He  loved," — there  was  a  silent  inter- 
communion— an  intensity  of  tender  love  of  which  the  other 
Apostles  seem  not  to  have  known.  Out  of  this  very  purity  of 
John  sprang  the  love  of  his  Divine  Lord  and  Master.  It 
was  after  His  resurrection  that  our  Lord  asked  Peter,  "  Dost 
thou  love  Me  more  than  these  ?  "  Before  the  suffering  and 
death  of  the  Son  of  God,  Peter  only  loved  Him  as  a  man. 
John's  love  knew  no  change.  Peter's  love  had  first  to  be 
humbled,  and  then  purified  by  tears,  and  the  heart  broken 
by  contrition  before  he  was  able  to  assert :  "  Lord,  Thou 
knowest  all  things :  Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee ! " 
But,  in  the  love  of  St.  John,  we  find  an  undoubting,  an 
unchanging  love.  What  his  Master  was  to  him  in  the  hour 
of  His  gh>ry,  the  same  was  He  in  the  hour  of  His  shame. 
He  beheld  his  Lord,  shining  on  the  summit  of  Tabor,  on  the 
day  of  His  Transfiguration;  j-et  he  loved  Him  as  dearly 
when  he  beheld  Him  covered  with  shame  and  confusion  on 
the  Cross.  What  was  the  natm-e  of  that  love?  Oh,  mv 
friends,  think  what  was  the  nature  of  that  love !  It  had 
taken  possession  of  a  mighty  but  an  empty  heart.  Mighty 
in  its  capacity  of  love  is  the  heart  of  man — the  heart  of  the 
young  man — the  heart  of  the  ingenuous,  talented,  and  enlight- 
ened youth.  Would  you  know  of  how  much  love  this  heart 
is  capable  ?  Behold  it  in  the  Saints  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
Behold  it  in  every  man  who  gives  his  heart  to  God  wholly 
and  entirely.  Behold  it  even  in  the  sacrifices  that  young 
hearts  make,  when  they  are  filled  with  merely  human  love. 
Behold  it  in  the  sacrifice  of  life,  of  health,  of  every  thing 
which  a  man  has,  which  is  made  upon  the  altar  of  his  love, 
even  when  that  human  love  has  taken  the  base,  revolting 
form  of  impurity.     Look  at  it.     Measure  it,  if  you  can.     I 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELIST.  79 

address  the  heart  of  the  young  man,  and  he  cannot  see  it ! 
The  truth  lies  here,  that  the  most  licentious  and  self-indulgent 
sinner  on  the  earth  has  never  yet  known,  in  the  indulgence  of 
his  wildest  excesses,  the  full  contentment,  the  complete  enjoy- 
ment, the  mighty  faculty  of  love  which  is  in  the  human  heart. 
Such  was  the  heart  which  our  Lord  called  to  him.       Such 
was  the  heart  of  John.       It  was  a  capacious  heart.      It  was 
the  heart  of  a  young  man.     It  was  empty.      No  human  love 
was   there.      No    previous    affection    came    in    to    cross    or 
counteract  the  designs  of  God  in  the  least  degree,  or  to  take 
possession  of  even  the  remotest  corner  of  that  heart.     Then, 
finding  it  thus  empty  in  its  purity,  thus  capacious  in  its 
nature,  the  Son  of  God  filled  the  heart  of  the  young  Apostle 
with  His  love.     Oh,  it  was  the  rarest,  the  grandest  friendship 
that  ever  existed  on  this  earth  :  the  friendship  that  bound  to- 
gether two  vu-gin  hearts — the  heart  of  the  beloved  disciple, 
John  J    the  grand  virgin  love  which  absorbed  John's  affec- 
tions, filling  his  young  heart,  and  intellect  with  the  beauty 
and  the  highest  appreciation  of  his  Lord  and  Master,  filling 
his  senses  with  the  charms  ineffable  produced  by  the  sight  of 
the  face  of  the  Holy  One.    He  looked  upon  the  beauty  of  that 
sacred  and  Divine  humanity ;  and  he  saw,  with  the  penetrat- 
ing eyes  of  the  intellect,  the  fulness  of  the  Divinity  that 
flashed  upon  him.     He,  at  least,  had  listened  to  the  voice  ot 
the  Divine  Master,  and  sweeter  it  was  than  the  music  which 
he  heard  in  Heaven,  and  which  he  describes  in  the  Apocalypse, 
where  he  says :  "I   heard  the  sound  of  many  voices,  and 
the  harpers  harping  upon  many  harps."     Far  sweeter  than 
the  echoes  of  Heaven   that  descended  into  his  soul  on  the 
Isle  of  Patmos,  was  the  noble,  manly  voice  of  his  Lord  and 
Master, — now  pouring  forth  blessings  upon  the  poor, — now 
telling  those  who  w^eep  that  they  shall  one  day  be  comforted, — 
now  whispering  to  the  widow  of  Naim,  '^  Weep  no  more  ; " 
now  telling  the  penitent  Magdalen,  ^'  Thy  sins  are  forgiven 
thee  because  thou  hast  loved  much  ; " — now,  thundering  in 
the  temple  of  Jerusalem  until  the  very  stones  resounded  to 
the  God-like  manifestation  of  Him  who  said  :  "It  is  written 
that  My  house  is  a  house  of  prayer ;  but  you  have  made  it  a 
den  of  thieves  ; " — it  was  still  the  loftiest  music  and  melody 
— the  harmonious  roll  of  the  voice  of  God — as  it  fell  upon  the 
charmed  ears  of  the  enraptured  Evangelist, — the  young  man 
who  followed  his  Master  and  fed  his  soul  upon  that  divine  love. 


80  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES, 

Out  of  this  love  sprang  that  inseparable  fellowship  that 
bound  him  to  Christ.  Not  for  an  instant  was  he  voluntarily 
absent  from  his  Master's  side.  Not  for  an  instant  did  he 
separate  himself  from  the  immediate  society  of  his  Loxd. 
And  herein  lay  the  secret  of  his  love ; — for  love,  be  it  human 
or  divine,  craves  for  union,  and  lives  in  the  sight  and  in  the 
conversation  of  the  object  of  its  affection.  Consequently,  of 
all  the  Apostles,  John  was  the  one  who  was  always  clinging 
around  his  Master — always  trying  to  be  near  Him — always 
trying  to  catch  the  loving  eyes  of  Christ  in  every  glance. 
This  was  the  light  of  his  brightness, — the  divine  wisdom  that 
animated  him ! 

How  distinct  is  the  action  of  John, — in  the  hour  of  the 
Passion, — from  that  of  Peter  !  Our  Divine  Lord  gave  warn- 
ing to  Peter.  "  Peter,"  He  said,  "  before  the  cock  crows 
you  will  deny  me  thrice."  No  wonder  the  Master's  voice 
struck  terror  into  the  heart  of  the  Apostle  !  And  yet,  strange 
to  say,  it  did  not  make  him  cautious  or  prudent.  When  our 
Lord"^  was  taken  prisoner,  the  Evangelist  expressly  tells  us 
that  Peter  follow- ed  Him.  Follow^ed  Him?  Indeed,  he  fol- 
lowed Him  5  but  he  folio w^ed  Him  '^  afar  off."  He  waited  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  crowd.  He  tried  to  hide  himself  in  the 
darkness  of  the  night.  He  tried  to  conceal  his  features,  lest 
any  man  might  lay  hold  of  him,  and  make  him  a.  prisoner,  as 
the  friend  of  the  Redeemer.  He  began  to  be  afraid  of  the 
danger  of  acknowledging  himself  to  be  the  servant  of  such  a 
master.  He  began  to  think  of  himself,  when  every  thought 
of  his  mind,  and  every  energy  of  his  heart  should  have  been 
concentrated  upon  his  Lord."  He  followed  Him  ;  but  at  some 
distance.  Ah  !  at  a  good  distance  !  John,  on  the  other  hand, 
rushed  to  the  front.  John  wanted  to  be  seen  with  his  Master, 
John  wanted  to  take  the  Master's  hand, — even  when  bound 
by  the  thongs, — that  he  might  receive  the  vivifying  touch 
of  contact  with  Christ !  John  w^anted  to  hear  every  word 
that  might  be  said,  whether  it  w^ere  for  or  against  Him. 
John  W' anted  to  feast  his  eyes  upon  every  object  which  en- 
gaged the  attention  of  his  Lord,  and  by  whose  look  it  was 
in-adiated ;  a  type,  indeed,  of  a  class  of  Christian  men,  seek- 
ing the  society  and  the  presence  of  their  Master,  and  strength- 
ened by  that  seeking  and  that  presence.  He  is  the  type  of 
the  man  who  goes  frequently  to  holy  communion,  preparing 
himself  by  a  good  confession,  and  so  laying  the  basis  of  a 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELIST.  81 

sacramental  union  with  God,  that  becomes  a  large  element 
of  his  life ; — the  man  who  goes  to  the  altar  every  month  ; — 
the  man  who  is  familiar  with  Christ,  and  who  enters  some- 
what into  the  inner  cbambers  of  that  Sacred  Heart  of  infinite 
love; — the  man  who  knows  what  those  few  minutes  of  rap- 
ture are  which  are  reserved  for  the  pure, — for  those  who  not 
only  endeavor  to  serve  God,  but  to  serve  Him  lovingly  and 
well.  Those  are  the  men  who  walk  in  the  footsteps  of  John  ; 
those  are  his  representatives.  Peter  is  represented  by  the 
man  who  goes  to  holy  communion  once  or  twice  in  the  year; 
— going  perhaps,  once  at  Easter  or  Christmas,  and  then 
returning  to  the  world  again.  God  grant  that  neither 
the  world,  nor  the  flesh,  nor  the  devil  will  take  posses- 
sion of  the  days,  or  weeks,  or  years  of  the  rest  of  his  life ! 
— he  who  gives,-^twice  in  the  year,  perhaps, — an  hour  or 
two  to  earnest  communion  with  God,  and,  for  all  the  rest, 
only  a  passing  consideration,  flashing  momentarily  across  the 
current  of  his  life.  And  what  was  the  consequence  ?  John 
went  up  to  Calvary,  and  took  the  proudest  place  that  ever 
was  given  to  man.  Peter  met,  in  the  outer  hall,  a  little  ser- 
vant-maid ;  and  she  said  to  him  :  "  Whom  seekest  thou  f — 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  | "  The  moment  that  the  child's  voice 
fell  upon  his  ear,  he  denied  his  Master,  and  he  swore  an  oath 
that  he  did  not  know  Him. 

Now,  we  come  to  the  third  grand  attribute  of  John  ;  and 
it  is  to  this,  my  friends,  that  I  would  call  your  attention 
especially.  Tender  as  the  love  of  this  man  was  for  his  Mas- 
ter— his  friend, — mark  how  strong  and  how  manly  it  was  at 
the  same  time.  He  does  not  stand  aside.  He  will  allow  no 
soldier,  or  guard,  or  executioner,  to  thrust  him  aside  or  put 
him  away  from  his  Master.  He  stands  by  that  Mastei-'s  side, 
when  he  stood  before  His  accusers  in  the  Praetorium  of  Pilate. 
Christ  comes  out.  John  receives  Him  into  his  arms,  when, 
fainting  with  loss  of  blood.  He  returns,  surrounded  by  sol- 
diers, from  the  ten'ific  scene  of  His  scourging.  And,  when 
the  cross  is  laid  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  Redeemer, — with 
the  crowd  of  citizens  around  him, — at  His  right  hand,  so  close 
that  He  might  lean  upon  him  if  He  would, — is  the  manly  form 
of  St.  John  the  Evangelist.  Oh,  think  of  the  love  that  was 
in  his  heart,  and  the  depth  of  his  sorrow,  when  he  saw  his 
Lord,  his  Master,  his  Eriend,  his  only  love,  reduced  to  so 
terrible  a  state  of  woe,  of  misery,  and  of  weakness !     This 


82  FATHER  BUEKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

was  tlie  condition  of  our  Divine  Lord,  when  they  laid  the 
heavy  cross  upon  His  shoukler.  How  the  Apostle  of  Love 
woukl  have  taken  that  painful  and  terrible  crown,  with  its 
thorns,  from  off  the  brows  to  which  it  adhered,  and  set  the 
thorns  upon  his  own  head,  if  they  had  only  been  satisfied  to 
let  him  bear  the  pains  and  sufferings  of  his  Master  and  his 
God !  Oh,  how  anxious  must  he  have  been  to  take  the  load 
that  was  placed  upon  the  unwilling  shoulders  of  Simon  of 
Cj^rene  !  Oh,  how  he  must  have  envied  the  man  who  lifted 
the  cross  from  off  the  bleeding  shoulders  of  the  Divine  Vic- 
tim, and  set  it  on  his  own  strong  shoulders,  and  bore 
it  along  up  the  steep  side  of  Calvary !  With  what 
gratitude  must  the  Apostle  have  looked  upon  the  face 
of  Veronica,  who,  with  eyes  streaming  with  tears,  and  on 
bended  knees,  upheld  the  cloth  on  which  the  Saviour  im- 
printed the  marks  of  His  divine  countenance !  Yet,  who 
was  this  man  "? — who  was  this  man^  who  received  the  blow  as 
the  criminal  who  was  about  to  be  executed  ?  Who  is  this 
man  who  takes  the  place  of  shame  ?  Who  is  this  man  who 
is  willing  to  assume  all  the  opprobrium  and  all  the  penalty 
that  follo^vs  upon  it  ?  He  is  the  only  one  of  the  Twelve  Apo- 
stles that  is  publicly  known.  We  read  in  .the  Grospel  that  the 
Apostles  were  all  humble  men, — poor  men,  taken  out  of  the 
crowd  by  our  Lord,  The  only  one  among  them  who  had 
made  some  mark,  who  was  noted,  who  was  remembered  for 
something  or  another,  was  St.  John.  And  by  whom  was  he 
known?  He  was  known, — says  the  Evangelist, — he  was 
known  to  the  High  Priest.  He  was  so  well  known  to  him,  and 
to  the  guards  and  to  the  officers,  and  to  the  priests,  that,  when 
our  Lord  was  in  the  house  of  Annas,  John  entered  as  a  matter 
of  course ;  and  when  Peter,  with  the  rest,  was  shut  out,  all 
that  John  had  to  do  was  to  speak  a  word  to  the  officers : — 
because,  says  the  Evangelist,  ^^he  was  well-known  to  the 
High  Priest" — w-ell-known  to  the  chief  magistrates — well- 
know  to  the  men  in  power — well  known  to  the  chief  senators. 
"  Oh,  John  !  John  !  be  prudent !  Remember  that  you  are  a 
noted  man,  so  that  you  will  be  set  down  by  the  men  in 
power,  for  shame  perhaps,  or  indignity,  or  even  death. 
Consult  your  own  interests.  Do  not  be  rash.  There  is  no 
knowing  when  your  aid  or  your  authority  may  be  w'anted." 
This  is  the  language  of  the  world.  This  is  the  language 
which  we  hear  dav  after  da  v.     "  Prudence  and  caution  !  ^ 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELIST.  83 

"  No  necessity  to  parade  our  religion  ! "  "  No  necessity  to  be 
tlirnsting  our  Catholicity  before  the  world  !  "  '^  No  necessity 
to  be  constantly  unfnrling  the  banner  on  which  the  Cross  of 
Christ  is  depicted — the  Cross  on  which  He  died  to  save  the 
sonls  of  men."  "  No  necessity  for  all  this.  Let  us  go  peace- 
fully with  the  world  !  Let  us  worship  in  secret.  Let  us  go 
quietly  on  Sunday,  to  divine  service;  and  let  the  world  know 
nothing  about  it  \ "  This  is  self-love  !  This  is  cowardice  ! 
Oh,  how  noble  the  answer  of  hira  whom  all  the  world  knew ! 
How  noble  the  soul  of  him  who  stood  by  his  Lord,  when  he 
knew  that  he  was  a  noted  man,  and  that,  sooner  or  later,  his 
fidelity,  on  that  Good  Friday  morning,  would  bring  him  into 
trouble  !  How  glorious  the  action  of  the  man  who  knew  he  was 
compromising  himself ! — that  he  was  placing  his  character,  his 
liberty,  his  very  life  in  jeopardy! — that  he  was  suffering,  per- 
haps, in  the  tenderest  intimacy  and  friendship  ! — that  he  was 
losing  himself,  perhaps,  in  the  esteem  of  those  worldly  men 
who  thought  they  were  doing  a  wise,  a  proper,  and  a  prudent 
thing  when  they  sent  the  Lord  to  be  crucified.  John  stands 
by  his  Master.  He  says,  in  the  face  of  the  whole  world  : 
'-  Whoever  is  His  enemy,  I  am  His  friend.  Whatever  is 
His  position  to-day,  I  am  His  creatm'e :  and  I  recognize 
Him  as  my  God  !  " 

And  so  he  trod,  step  by  step,  with  the  fainting  Redeemer, 
up  the  rugged  sides  of  Calvary.  W^e  know  not  what  words 
of  love  and  of  strong,  manly  sympathy  he  may  have  poured 
into  the  afflicted  ear  of  the  Eedeemer.  We  know  not  how 
much  the  drooping  humanity  of  our  Lord  may  have  been 
strengthened  and  cheered  in  that  sad  hour  by  the  presence 
of  the  faithful  and  loving  John !  Have  you  ever  been  in 
great  affliction,  my  friends  ?  Has  sorrow  ever  come  upon 
you  with  a  crushing  and  an  overwhelming  weight  ?  Have  you 
ever  lacked  heart  and  power  in  great  difficulty,  and  seen  no 
escape  from  the  crushing  weight  of  anxiety  that  was  breaking 
your  heart  f  Do  you  not  remember  that  such  has  been  the 
daily  experience  of  your  life  ?  Do  you  not  know  what  it  is 
to  have  even  one  fi'iend — one  friend  on  whom  you  can  rely 
with  perfect  and  implicit  confidence — one  friend  who,  you 
know,  believes  in  you  and  loves  you,  and  whose  love  is  as 
strong  as  his  life? — one  friend  who,  you  know,  will  uphold  you 
even  though  the  whole  world  be  against  you  ?  Such  was  the 
comfort,  such  was  the  consolation  that  it  was  the  Evangelist's 


84  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

privilege  to  pay  to  our  Lord  on  Calvary.  No  human 
prudence  or  argument  dissuaded  hira.  He  thought, — and  he 
thought  rightly, — that  it  was  the  supreme  of  wisdom  to  defy,  to 
despise,  and  to  trample  upon  the  workl,  when  that  world  was 
crucifying  his  Lord  and  Master.  Highest  type  of  the  man, 
saying,  from  out  the  depths  of  his  own  conscience,  '^  I  am 
above  the  w^orld !  "  Let  every  man  ask  himself  this  night, 
and  answer  the  question  to  his  own  soul :  "  Bo  I  imitate  the 
purity,  do  I  imitate  the  love,  do  I  imitate  the  courage  or  the 
bravery  of  this  man,  of  whom  it  is  said  that  he  was  ^  the 
disciple  whom  Jesus  loved  T"  He  got  this  reward,  exceed- 
ing great.  Ah,  how  little  did  he  know — great  as  was  his 
love — how  little  did  he  know  the  gift  that  was  in  store  for 
him — and  that  should  be  given  him  through  the  blood  that 
flowed  from  that  dying  Lord  !  Little  did  he  know  of  the 
crowning  glory  that  was  reserved  to  him  at  the  foot  of  the 
Cross  !  How  his  heart  must  have  throbbed  with  the  liveliest 
emotions  of  delight,  mingled  in  stormy  confusion  with  the 
greatness  of  his  sorrow,  w^hen,  from  the  lips  of  his  dying 
Master,  he  received  the  command :  "  Son,  behold  thy  Mother ! " 
— and,  with  eyes  dimmed  with  the  tears  of  anguish  and  of 
love,  did  he  cast  his  most  pure,  most  loving,  and  most 
reverential  glance  upon  the  forlorn  Mother  of  the  dying  Son  ! 
What  was  his  ecstasy  when  he  heard  the  voice  of  the  dying 
Master  say  to  Mary :  "  0  Mother,  look  to  John,  My 
brother.  My  lover,  My  friend  !  Take  him  for  thy  son ! " 
To  John  he  says :  ''  Son,  I  am  going  away.  I  am  leaving 
this  woman,  the  most  desolate  of  all  creatures  that  ever 
walked  the  earth.  True,  she  is  to  me  the  dearest  object  in 
Heaven  or  on  earth.  Friend,  I  have  nothing  that  I  love  so 
much  !  Friend,  there  is  no  one  for  whom  I  have  so  much 
love  as  I  have  for  her  !  And  to  you  do  I  leave  her  !  Take 
her  as  your  mother,  0  dearly  beloved !  "  John  advances 
one  step, — the  type  and  the  prototype  of  the  new  man, 
redeemed  by  our  Lord ; — the  type  of  the  man  whose  glory  it 
w^as  to  be  that  he  was  Mary's  son ; — he  advances  a 
step,  until  he  comes  right  in  front  of  his  dying  and  blessed 
Lord.  John  advances  one  step, — the  type — the  prototype 
of  the  new  man,  redeemed  by  the  Saviour, — and  whose  glory 
it  was  henceforth  to  be  that  he  was  to  be  Maiy's  son.  He 
advances  a  step,  until  he  comes  right  in  front  of  his  dying 
Lord  ;  and  he  approaches  Mary,  the  Mother,  in  the  midst  of 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELIST.  85 

her  sorrow,  and  flings  himself  into  her  loving  arms.  And 
the  newly-found  son  embraces  his  heavenly  Mother,  while, 
fi'om  the  crucified  Lord,  the  drops  of  blood  fall  down  upon 
them  and  cement  the  union  between  our  human  nature  and 
His,  and  fulfil  the  promise  He  had  made  to  His  Heavenly 
Father  in  the  adoption  of  our  humanity. 

The  scene  at  Calvary  I  will  not  touch  upon,  or  describe. 
The  slowly  passing  minutes,  of  pain,  of  anguish,  and 
of  agony  that  stretched  out  these  three  terrible  hours  of 
incessant  sufl'ering ; — of  these  I  will  not  speak.  In  your 
estimation  and  in  mine  they  do  not  need  to  be  spoken  of. 
But,  when  the  scene  was  over  j — when  the  Lord  of  glory 
and  of  love  sent  forth  His  last  cry  j — when  the  terrified  heart 
of  the  Virgin  throbbed  with  alarm  as  she  saw  the  Centurion 
draw  back  his  terrible  lance  and  thrust  it  through  the  side  of 
our  Divine  Lord  ;■ — when  all  this  was  over,  and  when  our 
Lord  was  taken  down  from  the  Cross  and  His  body  placed  in 
Mary's  aims  ; — after  she  had  washed  away  the  stains  with 
her  tears,  and  purified  His  face ; — after  she  had  taken  off  the 
crown  of  thorns  from  His  brow,  and  when  they  had  laid  Him 
in  the  tomb — the  desolate  Mother  put  her- hands  into  those 
of  her  newly-found  child,  St.  John,  and  with  him  returned 
to  Jerusalem.  The  glorious  title  of  "  The  Child  of  Mary  " 
was  now  his;  and  with  this  precious  gift  of  the  dying 
Redeemer  he  rejoiced  in  Mary's  society  and  in  Mary's  care. 
The  Virgin  was  then,  according  to  tradition,  in  her  forty- 
ninth  year.  During  the  twelve  years  that  she  smwived  with 
John,  she  was  mostly  in  Jerusalem,  while  he  preached  in 
Ephesus,  one  of  the  cities  of  Asia  Minor,  and  founded  there 
a  church,  and  held  the  chair  as  its  first  Apostle  and  Bishop. 
He  founded  a  church  at  Philippi,  and  a  church  at  Thessalonica, 
and  many  of  the  churches  in  Asia  Minor.  His  whole  life,  for 
seventy  years  after  the  death  of  his  divine  Lord,  was  spent  in 
the  propagation  of  the  Gospel  and  in  the  establishing  of  the 
Church.  But,  for  twelve  years  of  it,  the  Virgin  Mother  was 
with  him,  in  his  house,  tenderly  surrounding  him  with  every 
comfort  that  her  care  could  supply.  Oh,  think  of  the  rap- 
tures of  this  household  that  we  read  of  so  much !  Every 
glance  of  her  virginal  eyes  upon  him  reminded  her  of  Him 
who  was  gone, — for  John  was  like  his  Divine  Master.  It 
was  that  wonderful  resemblance  to  Christ  which  the  highest 
form  of  grace  brings  out  in  the  soul.     Pictm-e  to  yourselves, 


86  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

if  you  can,  that  life  at  Ephesus,  when  the  Apostle,  worn  down 
by  his  apostolic  preaching, — fatigued  and  wearied  from  his 
constantly  proclaiming  the  victor}^  and  the  love  of  the  Re- 
deemer,—returned  to  the  house  and  sat  down,  while  Mary, 
with  her  tender  hand,  wiped  the  sweat  from  his  brow,  and 
these  two,  sitting  together,  spoke  of  the  Lord,  and  of  the 
mysteries  of  the  life  in  Nazareth  ;  and  from  Mary's  lips  he 
heard  of  the  mysteries  of  the  thirty  years  of  love  in  the  hum- 
ble house  of  Nazareth ;  and  of  how  Joseph  had  died,  she  hold- 
ing his  head,  and  the  Son  of  God  standing  by  his  side.  From 
Mary's  lips  he  heard  the  secrets — the  wonderful  secrets — of 
her  Divine  Son ; — until,  filled  with  inspiration,  and  rising  to 
the  highest  and  most  glorious  heights  of  divinely-inspired 
thought,  he  proclaimed  the  Gospel  that  begins  with  the  won- 
derful words,  '^  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word,"  denoting 
and  pointing  back  to  the  eternity  of  the  Son  of  God.  Pic- 
ture to  yourselves,  if  you  can,  how  Mary  poured  out  to  John, 
yeai-s  after  the  death  of  our  Lord,  her  words  of  gratitude  for 
the  care  with  which  he  surrounded  her,  and  of  her  gratitude 
to  him  for  all  that  he  bad  done  in  consoling  and  upholding 
her  Divine  Child  in  the  hour  of  His  sorrow!  Oh,  this  sur- 
passes all  contemplation !  Next  to  that  mystery  of  Divine 
Love,  the  life  in  iSTazaretli  vaih  her  own  Child,  comes  near- 
est the  life  she  lived  in  Ephesus  with  her  second,  her  adopted 
son,  St.  John  the  Evangelist. 

He  passed  to  Heaven, — first  among  the  virgins,  says  St. 
Peter  Damian, — first  in  glory  as  first  in  love,  enshrined  to- 
day in  the  brightest  light  that  surrounds  the  virgin  choirs  of 
Heaven  !  Now,  now  he  sings  the  songs  of  angelic  joy  and 
angelic  love  ; — and  he  leaves  to  you  and  to  me, — as  he  stands, 
and  as  we  contemplate  him  upon  the  Hill  of  Calvary, — the 
grand  and  the  instructive  lesson  of  how  the  Christian  man 
is  to  behave  towards  his  Lord  and  his  God  ;  living  in  Chris- 
tian purity, — in  the  Christ-given  strength  of  divine  love, — and 
in  that  glorious,  world-despising  assertion  of  the  divinity  and 
of  the  love  of  Christ,  which,  trampling  under  foot  all  mere 
human  respect,  lives  and  glories  in  the  friendship  of  God  and 
in  the  possession  of  His  holy  faith  and  the  practice  of  His  holy 
religion  ; — not  blushing  for  Him  before  man  ;  and  thus  gain- 
ing the  reward  of  Him  who  says  :  -^And  he  that  confesses 
Me  before  men,  the  same  will  I  confess  before  My  Father  in 
Heaven." 


CHRIST  ON  CALVARY. 

[J  Sermon  delivered  bij  the  Very  Bev.  T.  N.  Burke,  O.P.,  in  the 
Dominican  Church  of  St.  Vincent  Ferrer,  New  York,  on  Good- 
Friday,  March  29,  1872.] 

"All  you  that  pass  this  way,  come  aud  see  if  there  be  any  sorrow 
like  unto  my  sorrow." 

Dearlt  Beloved  Brethren  :  These  words  are  found 
in  the  Lamentations  of  the  Prophet  Jeremiah.  There  was  a 
festival  ordained  by  the  Almighty  God,  for  the  tenth  day  of 
the  seventh  month  of  the  Jewish  year  ;  and  this  festival  was 
called  the  "Day  of  Atonement."  Now,  among  the  command- 
ments that  the  Almighty  God  gave  concerning  the  ^'  Day  of 
Atonement,"  there  was  this  remarkable  one :  "  Every  soul," 
said  the  Lord,  "that  shall  not  be  afflicted  on  that  day, 
shall  perish  from  out  the  land."  The  commandment  that 
He  gave  them  was  a  commandment  of  sorrow,  because  it  was 
the  day  of  the  atonement.  The  day  of  the  Christian  atone- 
ment is  come, — the  day  of  the  mighty  sacrifice  by  which  the 
world  was  redeemed.  "And  if,  at  other  seasons,  we  are  told 
to  rejoice, — in  the  words  of  the  Scripture — "  Rejoice  in  the 
Lord  ;  I  say  to  you  again,  rejoice," — to-day,  with  our  holy 
mother,  the  Church,  we  must  put  off  the  gannents  of  joy,  and 
clothe  ourselves  in  the  raiment  of  sorrow.  If,  at  other 
times,  we  are  told  to  be  glad  in  the  Lord, — according  to  the 
words  of  Scripture,  "  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  and  be  glad," — to- 
day the  command  is  that  every  soul  shall  be  afflicted ;  and 
the  soul  that  is  not  afflicted  shall  perish. 

And  now,  before  we  enter  upon  the  consideration  of 
the  terrible  sufferings  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, — all  that 
He  endured  for  our  salvation, — it  is  necessary,  my  dearly 
beloved  brethren,  that  we  should  turn  our  thoughts  to  the 
Victim,  whom  we  contemplate  this  night  dying  for  our  sins. 
That  Victim  was  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son 
of  God.  When  the  Almighty  God,  after  the  first  two  thou- 
sand years  of  the  world's  history,  resolved  to  destroy  the 
whole  race  of  mankind,  on  account  of  their  sins,  He  flooded 


88  FATHER  BUBKWS  DISCOURSES. 

the  earth ;  and,  in  that  universal  ruin,  He  wiped  out  the  sin 
by  destroying  the  sinners.  Now,  in  that  early  hour  of  God's 
first  terrible  visitation,  the  water  that  overwhelmed  the  whole 
world,  and  destroyed  all  mankind,  came  from  three  sources. 
First  of  all,  we  are  told,  that  God,  with  his  own  hand,  drew 
back  the  bolts  of  Heaven,  and  rained  down  water  from 
Heaven  upon  the  earth.  Secondly,  we  are  told  that  all  the 
secret  springs  and  fountains  that  were  in  the  bosom  of  the 
earth  itself,"burst  and  came  forth : — ^'  The  fountains  of  the 
great  abyss  burst  forth/'  says  Holy  Writ.  Thirdly,  we  are 
told  that  the  great  ocean  itself  overflowed  its  shores  and  its 
banks ;  ^^  and  the  sea  uprose,  until  the  waters  covered  the 
mountain  tops."  Thus,  dearly  beloved  brethren,  in  the 
inundation,  the  flood  of  suffering  and  sorrow  that  came  upon 
the  Son  of  God  made  man,  we  find  that  the  flood  burst 
forth  from  three  distinct  sources.  First  of  all,  from  Heaven, — 
the  Eternal  Father  sending  down  the  merciless  hand  of  justice 
to  strike  His  ow^n  Divine  Son.  Secondly,  from  Christ  our 
Lord  himself.  As  from  the  hidden  fountains  of  the  earth 
sending  forth  their  springs ;  so,  from  amid  the  very  heart 
and  soul  of  Jesus  Christ, — from  the  very  nature  of  His  being, 
— do  we  gather  the  greatness  of  His  sufiering.  Thirdly, 
from  the  sea  rising, — that  is  to  say,  from  the  malice  and 
wickedness  of  man.  Behold,  then,  the  three  several  sources 
of  all  the  suflerings  that  we  are  about  to  contemplate.  A 
just  and  angry  God  in  Heaven ;  a  most  pure,  and  holy,  and 
loving  Man-God  upon  earth,  having  to  endure  all  that  hell 
could  produce  of  most  wicked  and  most  demoniac  rage  against 
Him.  God's  justice  rose  up, — for,  remember,  God  was  angry 
on  this  Good-Friday; — the  Eternal  Father  rose  up  in 
Heaven,  in  all  His  power ; — He  rose  up  in  all  His  justice. 
Before  Him  was  a  Victim  for  all  the  sins  that  ever  had 
been  committed  ;  before  Him  was  the  Victim  of  a  fallen 
race ;  before  Him,  in  the  very  person  of  Jesus  Christ 
himself,  were  represented  the  accumulated  sins  of  all  the 
race  of  mankind.  Hitherto,  we  read  in  the  Gospel,  that, 
when  the  Father  from  heaven  looked  down  upon  His  own 
Divine  Child  upon  the  earth,  He  was  accustomed  to  send 
forth  His  voice  in  such  language  as  this : — "  This  is  my  be- 
loved Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased."  Hitherto,  no  sin, 
no  deformity,  no  vileness  was  there,  but  the  beauty  of  Heaven 
itself  in  that  fairest  fonn  of  human  bodv. — in  that  beautiful 


CHRIST  ON  CALVARY.  89 

soul,  and  in  the  fulness  of  the  divinity  that  dwelt  in  Jesus 
Christ.  Well  might  the  Father  exclaim — ^'  This  is  my  be- 
loved Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased  ! "  But,  to-day, — 
oh,  to-day  ! — the  sight  of  the  beloved  Son  excites  no  pleasure 
in  the  Father's  eyes, — brings  forth  no  word  of  consolation  or 
of  love  from  the  Father's  lips.  And  why  I  Because  the 
all-holy  and  all-beloved  Son  of  God,  on  this  Good-Friday, 
took  upon  Him  the  garment  of  our  sins, — of  all  that  His 
Father  detested  upon  this  earth ;  all  that  ever  raised  the 
quick  anger  of  the  Eternal  God  ;  all  that  ever  made  Him  put 
forth  His  arm,  strong  in  judgment  and  in  vengeance : — all 
this  is  concentrated  upon  the  sacred  jierson  of  Him  who  "be- 
came the  Victim  for  the  sins  of  men."  How  fair  He  seems  to 
us,  when  we  look  up  to  that  beautiful  figure  of  Jesus  ! — how 
fair  He  seemed  to  His  Virgin  Mother,  even  when  no  beauty  or 
comeliness  was  left  in  Him ! — how  fair  He  seemed  to  the  Mag- 
dalen, again,  who  saw  Him  robed  in  His  own  crimson  blood! 
The  Father  in  Heaven  saw  no  beauty,  no  fairness,  in  His 
Divine  Son  in  that  hour.  He  only  saw,  in  Him  and  on  Him, 
all  the  sins  of  mankind,  which  He  took  upon  Himself  that 
He  might  become  for  us  a  Saviour.  Picture  to  yourselves, 
therefore,  first,  this  mighty  fountain  of  divine  wrath  that  was 
poured  out  upon  the  Lord.  It  was  the  Father's  hand, — the 
hand  of  the  Fathei^s  justice, — outstretched  to  assert  His 
rights,  to  restore  to  Himself  the  honor  and  the  glory  of 
which  the  sins  of  all  men,  in  all  ages,  in  all  climes,  had 
deprived  Him  !  Picture  to  yourselves  that  terrible  hand  of 
God  drawing  back  the  bolts  of  Heaven,  and  letting  out  on 
His  own  divine  Son  the  fury  of  this  wrath  that  was  pent  up 
for  four  thousand  years  !  We  stand  stricken  with  fear  in  the 
contemplation  of  the  anger  of  God,  in  the  first  great  punish- 
ment of  sin,  the  Universal  Deluge.  And  all  the  sins  that 
in  every  age  roused  the  Fathei^s  anger  were  actually  visible 
to  the  Fathei^'s  eyes  on  the  person  of  His  Divine  Son.  We 
stand  astonished  and  frightened  when  we  see,  with  the  eyes 
of  faith  and  of  revelation,  the  living  fire  descending  from 
Heaven  upon  Sodom  and  Gomon'ha, — the  balls  of  fire  float- 
ing in  the  air,  thick  as  the  descending  flakes  in  the  snow- 
storai  ] — the  hissing  of  the  flames  as  they  came  rushing  dowTi 
from  Heaven,  like  the  hail  that  comes  down  in  the  hail- 
storm;  the  roaring  of  these  flames  as  they  filled  the 
atmosphere  j — their  terrible,  Imid  light  j — the  shrieks  of  the 


yu  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

people,  who  are  being  burned  up  alive ; — the  lowing  of  the 
tortiu-ed  beasts  in  the  fields  j — the  birds  of  the  air  falling, 
and  sending  forth  thek  plaintive  voices,  as  they  drop  to 
earth,  theh  plumage  scorched  and  burned  !  All  the  sins  that 
Almighty  God,  in  heaven,  saw  in  that  horn'  of  His  ^Tath, 
when  he  rained  dowa  fii'e, — all  these  did  He  see,  on  that 
Good-Friday  morning,  upon  His  o^\ti  Divine  Son.  All 
the  sins  that  ever  man  committed  were  upon  Him,  in  the 
hour  of  His  humiliation  and  of  His  agony,  because  He  was 
tnily  man ;  because  He  was  a  voluntary  victim  for  om'  sins ; 
because  He  stepped  in  between  our  nature,  that  was  to  be 
destroyed,  and  the  avenging  hand  of  the  Father  lifted  for  our 
destmction :  and  these  sins  upon  Him  became  an  argument 
to  make  the  Almighty  God  in  Heaven  forget,  in  that  hour, 
every  attribute  of  His  mercy,  and  put  forth  against  His  son 
all  the  omnipotence  of  His  justice.  Consider  it  well  j  let  it 
enter  into  yom'  minds ; — the  strokes  of  the  Divine  vengeance 
that  would  have  iTiined  you  and  me,  and  smik  us  into  hell 
for  all  etemit}^,  were  rained  by  the  unsparing  hand  of 
Omnipotence,  in  that  hour,  upon  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

The  second  fountain  and  source  from  which  came  forth  the 
deluge  of  His  sorrow  and  His  suffering  was  His  own  divine 
heart,  and  His  own  immaculate  nature.  For,  remember  that 
He  was  as  truly  man  as  He  was  God.  From  the  moment  Mary 
received  the  Eternal  Word  into  her  womb,  from  that  moment 
Christ,  the  Second  Person  of  the  Blessed  Trinity,  was  as  truly 
man  as  He  was  God  ;  and,  in  that  hom'  of  His  incarnation,  a 
human  body  and  a  human  soul  were  created  for  Him.  Now, 
first  of  all,  that  human  soul  that  He  took  was  the  purest  and 
most  perfect  that  God  could  make, — perfect  in  every  natural 
perfection ; — in  the  quickness  and  comprehensiveness  of  its 
intelligence  5 — in  the  large  capacity  for  love  in  its  human 
heart  5  in  the  great  depth  of  its  generosity  and  exalted  human 
spirit.  Nay  more,  the  ver}^  body  in  which  that  blessed  soul 
M^as  enshrined  was  so  formed,  that  it  w^as  the  most  perfect 
body  that  was  ever  given  to  man.  Now,  the  perfection  of 
the  body  in  man  lies  in  a  delicate  organization, — in  the  ex- 
treme delicacy  of  fibre,  muscle,  and  nerve  ;  because  they 
make  it  a  fitting  instrument  in  order  that  the  soul  within 
may  inspire  it.  The  more  perfect,  therefore,  the  human  being 
is,  the  more  sensitive  is  he  to  shame,  the  more  deeply  does  he 
feel  degradation,  the  more  quickly  do  dishonor  and  humilia- 


CHRIST  OX  CALVARY  91 

tion,  like  a  two-edged  sword,  pierce  the  spirit.  Nay,  the 
more  sensitive  he  is  to  pain,  tlie  more  does  he  shrink  away 
naturally  from  that  which  causes  pain  ;  and  that  which  would 
be  merely  pain  to  a  grosser  organization,  is  actual  agony,  is 
actual  torment  to  the  perfect  man,  formed  with  such  a  "soul 
that,  at  the  very  touch  of  his  body  the  sensitive  soul  is  made 
cognizant  of  pleasure  and  of  pain,  of  joy  and  of  solTOw^  What 
follows  from  this  f  St.  Bonaventm-e,  m  his  "  Life  of  Clirist," 
tells  us  that  so  delicate  was  the  sacred  and  most  perfect  body 
of  Our  Lord  that  even  the  palm  of  His  hand,  or  the  sole  of  His 
foot,  was  more  sensitive  than  the  inner  pupil  of  the  eye  of  any 
ordinary  man ;  that  even  the  least  touch  caused  him  pain  j 
that  every  mder  air  that  \'isited  that  Divine  face  brought  to 
Him  a  sense  of  exquisite  pain  that  ordinary  men  could  scarcely 
experience.  Add  to  this,  that  in  Him  was  the  fulness  of 
the  God-head,  realizing  all  that  was  beautiful  on  earth ;  re- 
alizing with  infinite  capacity  the  enormity  of  sin ;  realizing 
every  e\dl  that  ever  fell  upon  natm-e  in  making  it  accessible 
to  sin ;  and  above  all,  taking  in,  to  the  full  extent  of  its  eter- 
nal duration,  the  curse,  the  reprobation,  the  damnation  that 
falls  upon  the  wicked.  Oh,  how  many  som'ces  of  sorrow  are 
hem !  Here  is  the  heaii;  of  the  man — Jesus  Christ : — here 
is  the  fulness  of  the  infinite  sanctity  of  God, — here,  the  infi- 
nite horror  that  God  has  for  sin.  For  this  man  is  God! 
Here,  therefore,  is  at  once  the  indignation,  the  infinite  repug- 
nance, the  actual  sense  of  hoiTor  and  detestation  which, 
amounting  to  an  infinite,  passionate  repugnance,  absorbed 
the  whole  natm'e  of  Jesus  Christ  in  one  act  of  ^aolence  against 
that  which  is  come  upon  Him.  Now^,  every  single  sin  com- 
mitted in  this  world  comes,  and  actually  efi'ects,  as  it  were,  its 
lodgment  in  the  soul  and  spirit  of  Jesus.  At  other  times  he 
may  re«t,  as  He  did  rest,  in  the  Vu'gin's  arms ; — for  she  <vas 
sinless  •  at  other  times  He  may  allow  sin  and  the  sinner  to 
come  to  His  feet  and  touch  Him ;  but,  by  that  very  touch, 
that  smner  was  made  as  pm'e  as  an  angel  of  God.  But  to-day 
this  infinitely  holy  heart, — this  infinitely  tender  heart  must 
open  itself  to  receive, — no  longer  simply  to  pmify,  but  to 
assuTi^e  and  atone  for, — all  the  sins  of  the  world. 

The  thu'd  great  source  of  His  sufi"ering  was  the  rage  and 
the  malice  of  men.  They  tore  that  sacred  body ;  they  forgot 
every  instinct  of  humanity ;  they  forgot  every  dictate,  every 
ordinance  of  the  old  law,  to  lend  to  their  outrages  all  the  fuiy 


92  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

of  hell,  when  they  fell  upon  hnn,  as  the  Scripture  says, 
"  Like  hung-ry  dogs  of  chase  upon  their  prey."  He  is  now 
approaching  the  last  sad  day  of  His  existence  ;  He  is  now 
about  to  close  His  life  m  sufferings  which  I  shall  endea- 
vor to  put  before  you.  But  remember  that  this  Good- 
Friday,  with  all  its  terrors,  is  but  the  end  of  a  life  of  thirty- 
three  years  of  agony  and  of  suffering !  From  the  moment 
when  the  Word  -was  made  flesh  in  Mary's  womb, — from  tho 
moment  w^hen  the  Eternal  God  became  man, — even  before 
He  was  bom, — the  cross,  the  thorny  crown,  and  all  the  hor- 
rors that  were  accomplished  on  Calvary  were  steadily  before 
the  eyes  of  Jesus.  The  Infant  in  Bethlehem  saw  them ;  the 
Child  in  Nazareth  saw  them ;  the  Yoimg  Man,  toiling  to 
support  his  mother,  saw  them  ;  the  Preacher  on  the  moun- 
tain side  beheld  them.  Never,  for  a  single  instant,  were  the 
horrors  that  were  fulfilled  on  Good-Friday  morning  absent 
from  the  mind  or  the  contemplation  of  Jesus  Christ.  Oh, 
dearly  beloved  brethren,  well  did  the  Psalmist  say  of  Him, 
'i  My  grief,  my  sorrow  is  always  before  me ; "  well  the 
Psalmist  said,  "I  have,  dming  my  whole  life,  walked  in 
sorrow^ !  I  was  scourged  the  whole  day  !  "  That  day  was 
the  thui;y -three  years  of  His  mortal  life.  Pictm*e  to  yom'- 
selves  what  that  life  of  grief  must  have  been.  There  was 
the  Almighty  God  in  the  midst  of  men,  hearing  their  blas- 
phemies, beholding  then  infamous  actions,  fixing  His  all-pure 
and  all-holy  eyes  on  their  licentiousness,  their  ambition,  their 
avarice,  their  dishonesty,  then-  impmity.  And,  so,  the  very 
presence  of  those  He  came  to  redeem  was  a  constant  source 
of  grief  to  Jesus  Christ.  Moreover,  He  knew  well  that  He 
came  into  the  world  to  suffer,  and  only  to  suffer.  Every 
other  being  created  into  this  world  was  created  for  some  joy 
or  other.  There  is  not,  even  in  hell,  a  creature  whom 
Almighty  God  intended,  in  creating,  for  a  life  and  eternity 
of  misery  j  if  they  are  there,  they  are  there  by  their  own  act, 
not  by  tiie  act  of  God.  Not  so  with  Christ.  His  sacred 
body  was  fonned  for  the  express  and  sole  pm-pose  that  it 
might  be  the  victim  for  the  sins  of  man,  and  the  sacrifice  for 
the  world's  redemption.  .  "  Saciifice  and  oblation,"  He  said, 
"  Thou  w^ouldst  not,  0  God ;  but  Thou  hast  prepared  a  body 
for  me."  "Coming  into  the  world,"  says  St.  Paul,  ''He 
proclaimed,  '  for  tliis  I  am  come,  that  I  may  do  Thy  will,  0 
Father/  "     The  Fathei^s  will  was  that  He  should  suffer ;  and 


CHRIST  ON  CALVARY.  93 

for  tliis  was  He  created.  Therefore,  as  He  was  made  for 
suffeiing, — as  that  body  was  given  to  Him  for  no  purpose  of 
joy,  but  only  of  siiiFering,  of  expiation,  and  of  soitow, — there- 
fore it  was  that  God  made  him  capable  of  a  soitow  equal  to 
the  remission  He  was  about  to  grant.  That  was  infinite 
Borrow. 

And  now,  dearly  beloved,  ha\dng  considered  these  things, 
we  come  to  contemplate  that  which  was  always  before  the 
mind  of  Chi'ist, — that  from  which  He  knew  there  was  no 
escape, — that  which  was  before  Him  really,  not  as  the  future 
is  before  us,  when  we  anticipate  it  and  fear  it,  but  which 
still  comes  indistinctly  and  confusedly  before  the  mind. 
Not  so  with  Christ.  Every  single  detail  of  His  Passion, 
every  sorrow  that  was  to  fall  upon  Him,  every  indignity  that 
was  to  be  put  upon  His  body, — all,  in  the  full  clearness  of 
their  details,  were  before  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
for  the  thirty-three  years  of  His  life. 

As  the  sun  was  sloping  doT\Ti  towards  the  western  horizon 
on  the  evening  of  the  vigil  of  the  Pasch,  behold  our  Divine 
Lord  with  His  Apostles  around  Hiin :  and  there,  seated  in 
the  midst  of  them,  he  fulfilled  the  last  precept  of  the  law,  in 
eating  the  Paschal  lamb ;  and  He  then  changed  the  bread 
and  wine  into  his  ovm.  Body  and  Blood,  and  fed  His  Apostles 
vnth  that  of  which  the  Paschal  lamb  was  but  a  figure  and  a 
promise.  Now  they  are  about  to  separate  in  this  world. 
Now,  the  greatest  act  of  the  charity  of  God  has  been  per- 
foiTned.  Now  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  living  and  palpita- 
ing  in  the  heart  of  each  and  every  one  of  these  twelve. 
Now, — hoiTor  of  hon'ors ! — He  is  gone  into  the  heart  of 
Judas !  Arising  from  the  tables  om-  Lord  took  with  Him 
Peter,  and  James,  and  John;  and  He  turned  cahnly  and 
deliberately  to  enter  the  red  sea  of  His  Passion,  and  to  wade 
through  His  own  blood,  until  He  landed  upon  the  opposite 
shore  of  pardon,  and  mercy,  and  grace,  and  brought  with 
Him,  in  His  o^vm  sacred  humanity,  the  whole  human  race. 
Calmly,  deliberately,  taking  his  tlu^ee  friends  with  Him,  He 
went  out  from  the  supper-hall,  as  the  shades  of  evening  were 
deepening  into  night ;  and  He  walked  outside  the  walls  of 
Jemsaleui,  where  there  was  a  garden  full  of  olive  trees,  that 
was  called  Gethsemane.  The  Lord  Jesus  was  accustomed  to 
go  there  to  pray.  Many  an  evening  had  He  knelt  witliin 
those  groves  j  many  a  night  had  He  spent  under  the  shade 


94  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

of  these  trees,  filling  the  silent  place  with  the  voice  of  His 
cries  and  petitions,  before  the  Lord,  His  Father,  to  obtain 
pardon  and  mercy  for  mankind.  Now,  He  goes  there  for  the 
last  time ;  and  as  He  is  approaching, — as  soon  as  ever  He 
catches  sight  of  the  garden, — as  soon  as  the  familiar  olives 
present  themselves  to  His  eyes.  He  sees — what  Peter,  and 
James,  and  John  did  not  see, — He  sees  there,  in  that  dark 
garden,  the  mighty  array — the  mighty,  tremendous  array 
— of  all  the  sins  that  were  ever  committed  in  this  world, 
as  if  they  had  taken  the  bodily  fomi  of  demons  of  hell. 
There  they  w^ere  now — waiting  silently,  fearfully,  with  eyes 
glaring  mth  infernal  rage !  And  he  saw  them.  And 
w^as  He,  the  Lord  Grod,  to  go  among  them !  Among  them 
must  He  go  !  No  w^onder  that  the  moment  He  caught  sight 
of  that  garden  He  started  back,  and  tm^ning  to  the  three 
Apostles,  He  said :  ^^  Stand  by  Me  now,  for  My  soul  is  sor- 
rowful unto  death."  And,  leaning  upon  the  virgin  bosom  of 
John,  who  was  astonished  at  this  fearful  trial  of  his  Master, 
He  munnm-ed  unto  him  :  "  My  soul  is  soiTowful  unto  death ! 
Stand  by  me,"  He  says,  "  and  w^atch  with  me — and  pray !  " 
The  man ! — the  man  proving  his  humanity !  pro\dng  his 
humanity  w'liich  belonged  to  him  as  truly  as  his  divinity ! 
The  man,  turning  to,  and  clinging  to  his  fiiends  !  Gathering 
them  around  Him  at  that  terrible  moment  w^hen  he  was  about 
to  face  His  enemies,  He  cries  again  and  again  : — "  Stand  by 
me  !  stand  by  me  !  and  support  me,  and  watch,  and  pray  with 
me  ! "  And  then,  leaving  them,  alone  He  enters  the  gloomy 
place.  Summoning  all  the  com^age  of  God, — summoning  to 
His  aid  all  the  infinite  resom'ces  of  His  love, — summoning 
the  gi'eat  thought  that  if  He  was  about  to  be  destroyed, 
mankind  w^as  to  be  saved,  He  dashes  feai'lessly  into  the  depths 
of  Gethseraane ;  and  when  He  was  as  far  from  His  Apostles 
as  a  man  could  cast  a  stone, — there,  in  the  dark  depths  of 
the  forest,  the  Lord  Jesus  knelt  down  and  prayed.  What 
was  His  prayer !  Oh,  that  army  of  sins  w^as  closing  around 
Him  !  Oh,  the  breath  of  Hell  was  on  His  face  !  There  did 
He  see  the  busy  demons  marshalling  their  forces, — drawing 
closer  and  closer  to  Him  all  the  iniquities  of  men.  "  Oh, 
Father  !  "  He  cries — "  Oh,  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this 
chalice  pass  away  from  me  !  "  But  He  immediately  added — 
"  Not  My  ^vill  but  Thine  be  done  !  "  Then  tmiiing — for  the 
Father^s  will  was  indicated  to  him  in  the  voice  fi'om  Heaven, 


CHRIST  ON  CALVARY.  95 

with  the  first  tone  of  anger  upon  it ;  the  first  word  of  anger 
that  Jesus  ever  heard  from  His  Father's  lips,  saying :  "  It  is 
My  will  to  strike  Thee  !  Go  ! "  He  turned ;  He  bared  his 
innocent  bosom ;  He  put  out  His  sinless  hands ;  and,  turning 
to  all  the  powers  of  hell,  allowed  the  ocean-wave  of  sin  to 
flow  in  upon  Him  and  overwhelm  Him.  The  lusts  and 
wickedness  of  men  before  the  Flood,  the  impurities  of  Sodom 
and  Gomon'ha,  the  idolatries  of  the  nations,  the  ingratitude 
of  Israel ; — all  the  sins  that  ever  appeared  under  the  eyes  of 
God's  anger — all — all ! — like  the  waves  of  the  ocean,  coming 
in  and  falling  upon  a  solitary  man,  who  kneels  alone  on  the 
shore, — all  fell  upon  Jesus  Christ.  He  looks  upon  Himself, 
and  He  scarcely  recognizes  Himself  now.  Are  these  the 
hands  of  Jesus  Christ,  scarcely  daring  to  uplift  themselves  in 
prayer,  for  they  ai'e  red  w^ith  ten  thousand  deeds  of  blood  ? 
Is  this  the  heart  of  Jesus,  frozen  up  with  unbelief,  as  if  He 
felt — what  He  could  not  feel — that  He  was  the  personal 
enemy  of  God?  Is  this  the  sacred  soul  of  Jesus  Chi-ist, 
darkened  for  the  moment  with  the  en'ors  and  the  adulteries 
of  the  whole  world  ?  In  the  halls  of  His  memory  nothing 
but  the  hideous  figm-es  of  sin ! — desolation,  broken  hearts, 
weeping  eyes,  cries  of  despair,  du"e  blasphemies ; — ^these  are 
the  things  that  He  sees  within  Himself,  that  He  hears  m  His 
eai'S !  It  is  a  world  oi  sin  around  Him.  It  is  a  raging  of 
demons  about  Him.  It  is  as  if  sin  had  entered  into  His  blood. 
Oh,  God !  He  bears  it  as  long  as  a  suffering  man  can  bear. 
But  at  length,  from  out  the  depths  of  His  most  sacred  heart, 
— from  out  the  very  divinity  that  was  in  ^  Him, — the  foun- 
tains of  the  gi'eat  deep  were  moved,  and  forth  came  a  iTish  of 
blood  from  every  pore !  His  eyes  can  no  longer  dwell  on 
the  teiTible  vision  !  He  can  no  longer  look  upon  these  red 
scenes  of  blood  and  impmity  !  A  weakness  comes  mercifully 
to  His  relief.  He  gazes  upon  the  fate  that  God  has  put  upon 
Him  ;  and  then  He  falls  to  the  earth,  writhing  in  His  agony ; 
and  forth  from  every  pore  of  His  sacred  fi'ame  streams  the 
blood !  Behold  Him !  Behold  the  blood  as  it  oozes  out 
through  His  garments,  making  them  red  as  those  of  a  man 
who  has  trodden  in  the  wine  press !  Behold  Him,  as  His 
agonizing  face  lies  prone  upon  the  earth.  Behold  Him,  as,  in 
the  horn-  of  that  tenible  agony.  His  blood  reddens  the  soil 
of  Gethsemane  ! — behold  Him  as  he  wTithes  on  the  ground, — 
one  mass  of  streaming  blood, — sweating  blood  from  head  to 


96  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

foot, — cnang  out,  in  His  agony,  for  the  sins  of  the  whole 
world !  A  mountain  of  the  anger  of  God  is  upon  Him ! 
Behold  Him  in  Getlisemane,  0  Christian  man  !  Kneel  down 
by  His  side  !  Lie  down  on  that  blood-stained  earth,  and,  for 
the  love  of  Jesus  Christ,  wliisper  one  word  of  consolation  to 
Him  !  For,  remember  that  you  and  I  were  there;  were  there; 
and  He  saw  us, — even  as  He  sees  us  in  this  horn-,  gathered 
under  the  roof  of  this  church.  He  saw  us  there,  in  our  qual- 
ity of  sinners,  as — with  every  sin  that  ever  we  committed — as 
if,  with  a  stone  in  our  uplifted  hand,  we  flung  it  down  upon 
His  defenceless  form  !  When  Acan  was  convicted  of  a  crime, 
Joshua  gave  word  that  every  man  of  the  Jewish  nation 
should  take  a  stone  in  his  hand,  and  fling  it  at  him ;  and  all 
the  people  of  Israel  came  and  flung  them  upon  him,  and  put 
him  to  death.  So  every  son  of  man,  from  Adam  down  to  the 
last  that  was  born  on  this  earth, — every  son  of  man — every 
human  being  that  breathed  the  breath  of  God's  creation  in 
this  world,  was  there,  in  that  hour,  to  fling  his  sins,  and  let 
them  fall  do^vn  upon  Jesus  Christ.  All,  all, — save  one. 
There  was  one  whose  hand  was  not  lifted  against  Him. 
There  was  one  who,  if  she  had  been  there,  could  be  only 
there  to  help  Him  and  to  console  Him.  But  no  help  could 
come,  no  consolation  in  that  hour !  Therefore  Mary,  the 
only  sinless  one,  w^as  absent. 

He  rises  'after  an  hom\  No  scourge  has  been  yet  laid 
upon  that  sacred  body.  No  executioner's  hand  has  profaned 
Him  as  yet.  No  nail  had  been  diiven  thi'ough  His  hands. 
And  yet  the  blood  covered  His  body; — for  His  Passion 
began  fi'om  that  source  to  which  I  have  alluded — His  own 
divine  spirit :  His  Passion — His  pain  began  from  within. 
He  rises  from  the  earth.  What  is  this  which  we  heart 
There  is  a  sound,  as  of  the  voices  of  a  rabble.  There  are 
hoarse  voices  filling  the  night.  There  are  men  with  clubs 
in  their  hands,  and  lanterns  lighted.  They  come  with  fire 
and  fmy  in  their  eyes,  and  the  universal  voice  is,  "  Where  is 
He  ?  Where  is  He  1"  Ah  there  is  one  at  the  head  of  them  ! 
You  hear  his  voice : — "  Come  cautiously  !  I  see  Him.  I 
will  point  Him  out  to  you  !  There  are  four  of  them.  There 
He  is,  ^vith  three  of  His  friends.  When  you  see  me  take  a 
man  in  mj  arms  and  kiss  him.  He  is  the  man !  Lay  hold 
of  Him  at  once,  and  drag  Him  away  with  you; — and  do 
what  you  please ! "     Who  is  he  that  says  this  1     Who  are 


cnni.'ST  ox  calvary.  97 

they  that  come  like  hell-hounds,  thirsting  for  the  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  f  that  come  with  the  rage  of  hell  in  their  blood, 
and  in  their  mouths  ?  They  are  come  to  take  Him  and  to 
tear  Him  to  pieces.  AVho  is  this  that  leads  them  on  ?  Oh, 
friends  und  men !  it  is  Judas,  the  Apostle !  Judas,  who 
spent  three  years  in  the  society  of  Jesus  Clnist !  Judas, 
that  was  taught  by  Him  every  lesson  of  piety  and  viilue,  by 
word  and  by  example  !  Judas,  who  received  the  priesthood  ! 
Judas,  upon  whose  lips,  even  now,  blushes  the  sacred  blood 
received  in  holy  communion !  Oh,  it  is  Judas !  And  he 
has  come  to  give  up  liis  Master,  whom  he  has  sold  for  thirty 
pieces  of  silver.  He  went  after  liis  unworthy  communion  to 
the  Pharisees,  and  he  said  :  '''■  What  will  you  give  me,  and  I 
will  sell  Him  to  you"? — give  Him  upf  He  put  no  price 
upon  Jesus.  He  thought  so  little  of  his  Master,  that  He  was 
prepared  to  take  any  thing  they  would  offer.  They  offered 
him  thirty  small  pieces  of  silver;  and  he  clutched  at  the 
money.  He  thought  it  was  a  great  deal,  and  more  than 
Jesus  Christ  was  worth  !  Now  he  comes  to  fullil  his  i»ortion 
of  the  contract ;  and  he  points  the  Lord  out  by  going  up  to 
him — putting  his  traitor  lips  upon  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,, 
and  sealing  upon  that  face  the  kiss  of  a  false-hearted,  a 
wicked,  and  a  traitorous  follower.  Behold  him  now.  The 
Son  of  God  sees  him  approach.  He  opens  his  arms  to  him. 
Judas  flings  himself  in  his  Master's  anus,  and  he  hears 
the  gentle  reproach, — oh,  last  proof  of  love ! — oh,  last 
opportunity  to  him  to  repent — even  in  this  horn* ! — "  J  udas, 
is  it  with  a  kiss  thou  betrayest  the  Son  of  Man  ! " 

Now,  the  multitude  rush  in  upon  Him  and  seize  Him. 
A¥e  have  a  supplement  to  the  Gospel  naiTative  in  the  reve- 
lations of  many  of  the  Saints,  and  of  holy  souls  who,  in 
reward  for  their  extraordinary^  devotion  to  the  Passion  of  our 
Lord,  were  favored  ^\\i\\  a  clbser  sight  of  His  sufferings.  We 
are  told  by  one  of  these, — whose  revelations,  though  not  yet 
approved,  are  tolerated  by  the  Church, — that  when  ouu 
Divine  Lord  gave  Himself  into  the  hands,  of  His  enemies, 
they  boimd  His  sacred  arms  with  a  rope  and  rushed  toward* 
the  city,  cb-agging  along  with  them,,  forcibly  and  violently, 
the  exhausted  lledeemev.  Exhausted,.  I  say,  for  His  soul 
had  just  passed  through  the  agony  of  Plis  prayer,  and  His 
body  was  still  dripping  with  the  sweat  of  blood.  Behveeu 
that  spot  and  J^wsalem  flowed  the  little  stream  ealled  .+he 


\ 


98  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

Brook  of  Kedron.  ^Mien  tliey  came  to  that  little  stream, 
om'  Saviom'  stmnbled  and  fell  over  a  stone.  Tliey,  witliont 
Avaiting  to  give  Him  time  to  rise,  pnlled  and  di'agged  Him 
on  with  all  theii*  might.  They  literally  dragged  Him 
through  the  water,  wounding  and  bmising  His  body  by 
contact  wdth  the  rocks  that  were  in  its  bed.  It  was  night 
when  they  brought  Him  into  Jerusalem.  That  night  a 
cohort  of  Roman  soldiers  fonned  the  body-guard  of  Pilate. 
They  were  called  "The  Archers;"  men  of  the  most 
corrupt  and  tenible  vices  ;  men  without  faith  in  God  or  man  : 
men  whose  every  w^ord  was  either  a  blasphemy  or  an  impu- 
rity. These  men,  who  were  only  anxious  for  amusement, 
when  they  found  the  prisoner  dragged  into  Jemsalem  at 
that  horn',  took  possession  of  Him  for  the  night ;  and  they 
brought  Him  to  their  quarters  :  and  there  the  Redeemer  was 
put  sitting  in  the  midst  of  them.  During  the  whole  of  that 
long  night,  between  Holy-Thursday  and  Good-Friday 
morning,  the  soldiers  remained  sleepless,  employed  in  loud 
revel,  and  in  their  derision  and  torture  of  the  Son  of  God. 
They  struck  Him  on  the  head.  They  spat  upon  Him. 
They  hustled  Him,  T\-ith  scorn,  from  one  to  another.  They 
bruised  Him.  They  wounded  Him  in  every  conceivable 
form  Here, — silent  as  a  lamb  before  the  shearer, — was  the 
Eternal  Son  of  God,  looking  out,  with  eyes  of  infinite  know- 
ledge and  purity,  upon  the  veiy  \dlest  men  that  all  the 
iniquity  of  this  earth  could  bring  around  Him. 

He  was  brought  before  the  High  Priest.  He  was  asked 
to  answer.  The  moment  the  Son  of  God  opened  His  lips  to 
speak — the  moment  he  attempt  to  testify — a  brawny  soldier 
came  out  of  the  ranks,  stepped  before  our  Divine  Lord,  and 
saying  to  him  :  "  Answerest  thou  the  High  Priest  thus  ?  " 
drew  back  his  clenched  mailed  hand,  and,  with  the  full  force 
of  a  strong  man,  flinging  himself  forward,  stmck  Almighty 
God  in  the  face !     The  Saviom-  reeled,  stmmed  by  the  blow. 

The  morning  came.  Now  He  is  led  before  Pilate,  the 
Roman  Governor,  who  alone  has  power  to  sentence  Him 
to  death,  if  He  be  guilty, — and  who  has  the  obligation  to 
protect  Him  and  set  Him  at  liberty,  if  He  be  innocent.  The 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  and  the  Publicans  were  there, — the 
leaders  of  the  people,  and  the  rabble  of  Jerasalem  were 
with  them  :  and  in  the  midst  of  them  was  the  silent,  innocent 
Victim  who  knew  that  the  sad  and  temble  hour  of  His 


CHRIST  OX  CA  L  VAR  Y.  99 

crucifixion  was  upon  Him.      Brouglit  before  Pilate,  He  is 
accused  of  this  crime  and  that.      Witnesses  are  called ;    and 
the  moment  they  come — the  moment  they  look  upon  the  face 
of  God, — they  ai'e  unable  to  give  testimony  against  Him. 
They  could  say  nothing  that  proved  Ilini  guilty  of  any 
crime  j  and  Pilate  enraged  turned  to  the  Pharisees,  turned  to 
tlic  learned  men,  turned  to  the  people  themselves,  and  said  : 
"  What  do  you  bring  this  man  here  for  f     Why  is  he  bound  ? 
Why  is  he  bruised  and  maltreated "?     What  has  he  done  f    I 
find  no  crime,  or  shadow  of  a  crime  in  him."     He  is  not  onlv 
innocent,  but  the  judge  declares,  before  all  the  people,  that  the 
man  has  done  nothing  whatever  to  deserve  any  punishment, 
much  less  death.      How  is  this  sentence  received?      The 
Phaiisees  ai'e  busy  among  the  people,  whispering  their  cal- 
umnies, and  prompting  them  to  cry  out,  and  say  :     <'  Crucify 
Hini !  crucify  Him !     We  want  to  have  Jesus  of  Xazareth 
crucified!      We  want  to  do  it  early,  because  the  evening 
^nll  come  and  bring  the  Sabbath  with  it !      We  want  to  have 
His  blood  shed  !    Quick  !    Quick  !     Tell  Pilate  he  must  con- 
demn Jesus  of  Nazareth,  or  else  he  is  no  friend  to  Ca?sar  ! " 
The  people  cry  out :    "  Let  Him  be  crucified  !      If  you  let 
Him  go,  you  are  no  friend  of  Ca?sar  ! "      What  says  Pilate  ? 
"  Cracify  yom-  king  !      He  calls  himself  ^  King  of  the  Jews.' 
You  yourselves  wished  to  make  Him  your  king:   and  you 
honored  Him.      Am  I  to  crucify  Him  whom  you  would  have 
for   king?     Am   I  to    crucify   your  king?"     And   then, — 
then,  in  an  awful  moment,  Israel  declared  solemnly  that  God 
was  no  longer  her  king  -,    for  the  people  cried  out*^:    "  He  is 
not  our  king !      We  have  no  king  but  Cgesar !      We  have 
no  king  but  Csesar  ! "     The  old  cry  of  the  man  who,  com- 
mitting sin,  says:  "I  have  no  Idng  but  my  own  passions;  I 
have  no  king  but  this  world  ;  I  have  no  king  but  the  thoughts 
of  money,  or  of  honors,  or  of  indulgence  !  "      So  tlie  Jews 
cried :  "  He  is  no  king  of  om's  ,•  we  have  no  king  but  Ca?sar  I  " 
Pilate,  no  doubt,  in  a  spiiit  of  compromise,  said  to  himself: 
"  I  see  tliis  man  cannot  escape.     I  see  murder  in  these  peoph^'s 
eyes!      They  are  determined  upon  the  cmcifixion  of  this 
man  ;  and,  therefore,  I  must  try  to  find  out  some  way  or 
another  of  appealing  to  their  mercy."      Then  he  thought  lo 
himself  :  "  I  will  make  an  example  of  Him.     I  ^^-ill  tear  the 
flesli  off  His  bones.      T  will  cover  Him  witli  bkmd.       I  will 
make  Him  such  a  pitiable  object  that  not  one  in  all  that 


100  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

crowd  will  have  the  heart  to  demand  fiirtlier  punishment,  or 
another  blow  for  Him."  So  he  called  his  officers,  and  said : 
"  Take  this  man,  and  scourge  Him  so  as  to  make  Him  fright- 
ful to  behold ;  let  Him  be  so  mangled  that  when  I  show 
Him  to  the  people,  they  may  be  moved  to  pity  and  spare  his 
life :  for  he  is  an  innocent  man." 

In  the  cold  early  morning,  the  Lord  is  led  forth  into  the 
court-3^ard  of  the  Praetorium ;  and  there  sixty  of  the  sti'ongest 
men  of  the  guard  are  picked  out, — chosen  for  their  strength ; 
and  they  are  told  oft  into  thirty  pairs,  and  every  man  of  the 
sixty  has  a  new  scourge  in  his  hand.  Some  have  chains  of 
iron ;  some  cords  knotted,  with  steel  spurs  at  the  end  of 
them ;  others,  the  green,  supple  twig,  plucked  from  the 
hedge  in  the  early  morning  ; — long,  and  supple,  and  temble, 
armed  ^\ith  thorns.  Now  these  men  come  and  close  around 
oiu'  Lord.  They  strip  Him  of  His  garments  j  they  leave 
Him  perfectly  naked,  blushing  in  His  infinite  modesty  and 
purity,  so  that  He  longs  for  them  to  begin  in  order  that  they 
may  robe  Him  in  His  blood.  They  tie  His  hands  to  a 
pillar  J.  they  tie  Him  so  that  He  cannot  move,  nor  shrink 
from  a  blow,  nor  tm^n  aside.  And  then  the  two  first 
advance  ;  they  raise  their  brawny  arms  in  the  air ;  and  then, 
with  a  hiss,  down  come  the  scoiu'ges  upon  the  sacred  body  of 
the  Lord !  Quicker  and  quicker  these  arms  rise  in  the  air 
with  these  tenible  scourges.  Each  stroke  leaves  its  livid 
mark.  The  flesh  rises  into  welts.  The  blood  is  congealed 
and  shows  piu-ple  beneath  the  skin.  Presently,  the  scourge 
comes  down  again,  and  it  is  followed  by  a  quick  spurt  of  blood 
from  the  sacred  body  of  oiu'  Lord ; — the  blows  quickening, 
and  without  pause,  and  without  mercy  j  the  blood  flowing 
after  every  additional  blow ; — till  these  two  strong  men  are 
fatigued  and  tired  out, — until  thek  scom-ges  are  sodden 
and  saturated,  and  dripping  with  His  blood,  do  they  still 
strike  Him, — and  then  retire,  exhausted,  from  their  terrible 
labor  J  then,  in  comes  another  pair, — fresh,  vigorous;  fresh 
anns  and  new  men  come  to  rain  blows  upon  the  defenceless 
body  of  the  Lord,  upon  His  sacred  limbs,  upon  His  sacred 
shoulders  !  Every  portion  of  His  sacred  body  is  torn  :  every 
bloAV  brings  the  flesh  fi'om  the  bones,  and  oj)ens  a  new  wound 
and  a  new^  stream  of  blood.  Now  He  stands  ankle  deep-in 
His  OA\Ti  blood, — hanging  out  from  that  pillar,  exhausted, 
with  head  drooping,  almost  insensible.     He  is  still  beaten, — 


CHRIST  OX  CA  L  VA  I!  Y.  101 

even  when  the  very  men  who  stiike  Ilim  tliink,  or  suspect, 
tliat  they  may  have  killed  Him.  It  was  wiitten  in  the  Old 
Law,  '^  If  a  man  be  found  guilty/'  says  the  Lord  in  Deuter- 
onomy, "let  him  be  beaten,  and  let  the  measure  of  his  sin 
be  the  measure  of  his  punisliment ;  yet  so  that  no  criminal 
receive  more  than  forty  stripes,  lest  thy  brother  go  away 
shatuefully  torn  from  before  thy  face  ! "  These  w^ere  the 
words  of  the  law.  Well  the  Pharisees  knew  it !  AVell  the 
Publicans  and  Scribes  knew  it !  And  there  they  stood 
around,  in  the  outer  cii-cle,  with  hate  in  their  eyes,  fury  up- 
on then'  lips  ;  and  even  when  the  very  men  who  were  dealing 
out  their  revenge  thought  they  had  killed  the  victim  they 
were  scom-ging,  still  came  forth  from  these  hai-dened  hearts 
the  words  of  encouragement :  "  Strike  Him  still !  Strike 
Him  still !  "  And  there  they  continued  their  cruel  task  until 
sixty  men  retired,  fatigued  and  worn  out  with  the  work  of 
the  scourging  of  our  Lord  ! 

Now,  behold  Him  as,  senseless,  He  hangs  from  that  pillar, 
one  mass  of  bmised  and  torn  flesh  ! — one  open  wound,  from 
the  cmvm.  of  His  head  to  the  soles  of  His  feet ! — all  bathed 
in  the  crimson  of  His  own  blood,  and  terrible  to  behold !  If 
you  saw  Him  here,  as  He  stood  there  j  if  you  saw  Him  now, 
standing  upon  that  altar, — there  is  not  a  man  or  woman 
among  j^ou  that  could  bear  to  look  upon  the  teiTible  sight. 
They  cut  the  cords  that  bound  Him  to  the  pillar ;  and  the 
Redeemer  fell  do^\Ti,  bathed  in  His  o^\^l  blood,  and  senseless 
upon  the  ground.  Behold  Him  again,  as  at  Gethsemanc ; 
now,  no  longer  the  pain  from  within,  but  the  pain  from  the 
tenible  hand  of  man — ^the  instrument  of  God's  vengeance. 
Oh,  behold  Him !  Mary  heard  those  stripes  and  yet  she 
could  not  save  her  Son.  Mary's  heart  went  down  with  Him 
to  the  ground,  as  He  fell  from  that  terrible  pillar  of  His 
scom-ging !  Behold  Him,  you  mothers !  You  fathers, 
behold  the  Virgin's  Child,  your  God — Jesus  Christ !  The 
soldiers  amused  tliernselves  at  the  sight  of  His  sufferings,  and 
scoffed  at  Him  as  He  lay  prostrate.  Ilecovering  somewhat, 
after  a  tim<3  He  opened  His  languid  eyes  and  rose  from  the 
ground, — rose,  all  tora  and  bleeding.  They  throw  an  old 
]>urple  rag  around  His  shoulders,  and  they  set  Him  upon  a 
stone.  One  of  them  has  been,  in  the  meantime,  busily 
engaged  in  twisting  and  twining  a  crown  made  of  some  of 
those    thorns,    which   they   had   prepared   for   the    sconrg- 


102  rATIJER  BURKE'S  DISCOrnSES. 

ing, — a  crown  in  wliicli  seventy-two  long  tborns  were  put,  so 
that  they  entered  into  the  sacred  head  of  our  L'»rd.  This 
crown  was  set  upon  his  brow.  Then  a  man  came  with  a 
reed  in  his  hand,  and  struck  those  thorns  deep  into  the  tender 
forehead.  They  are  fastened  deeply  in  the  most  sensitive 
orfi^an,  where  pain  bec^>mes  maddening  in  its  agony.  He 
strikes  the  thorns  in,  till  even  the  sacred  humanity  of  our 
L.rd  forces  from  Him  the  cry  of  agony  !  He  strikes  them  in 
still  deeper  ! — deeper  !  Oh,  ray  Gud  I  Oh,  Father  of  Mercy  ! 
And  all  this  opens  up  new  streams  of  blood  I — new  fountains 
of  htve  !  The  blood  streams  down,  and  the  face  of  the  Most 
Hi^h  is  hidden  under  its  crimson  veil.  Xow,  now,  indeed, 
0  Pilate, — 0  wise  and  compromising  Pilate, — now,  indeed, 
you  have  gained  your  end !  You  have  proved  yourself  the 
friend  of  Caesar.  "  Now.  there  is  no  fear  but  that  the  Jews, 
when  thev  see  Him,  will  be  moved  by  compassion ! 

They  bring  Him  back  and  they  put  Him  standing  before 
the  Roman  "governor.  His  rugged  pagan  heart  is  moved 
within  him  with  horror  when  he  sees  the  fearful  example  they 
have  made  of  Him.  Frightened  when  he  beheld  Him,  he 
turned  away  his  eyes  5  the  spectacle  was  too  terrible.  He 
called  for  water  arid  washed  his  hands.  "  I  declare  before 
God,"  he  says,  "  I  am  innocent  of  this  man's  blood  !  *'  He  leads 
Him  out  on  the  balcony  of  his  house.  There  was  the  raging 
multitude,  swaying  to  and  fro.  Some  are  exciting  the  crowd, 
nr^ine  them  to  cry  out  to  crucify  Him ;  some  are  pre- 
paring the  Cross,  others  getting  ready  the  hammer  and  nails, 
some  thinking  of  the  spot  where  they  would  crucify  Him ! 
There  thev  were  arguing  with  diabolical  rage.  Pilate  came 
f(jrth  in  his  robes  of  office.  Soldiers  stand  on  either  side  of 
him.  Two  soldiers  bring  forth  om- Lord.  His  hands  are  tied. 
A  reed  is  put  in  His  hand  in  derision.  Thorns  are  on  His 
brow.  Blood  is  flowing  from  every  member  of  His  sacred 
bodv.  An  old  tattered  purple  rag  is  flnng  over  hiin.  Pilate 
brincfs  him  out,  and  looking  round  on  the  multitude  says : 
'•  Ecce  homo  !  Behold  the  man  !  Ton  said  I  was  no  friend  to 
Csesar.  Ton  said  I  was  afraid  to  punish  Him  !  Behold  Him 
DOW !  Is  there  a  man  among  you  who  would  have  the  heart 
to  demand  more  ptmishment?"  Oh,  Heaven  and  earth! 
Oh,  Heaven  and  earth  !  The  cry  from  out  every  lip — from 
out  everv  heart  is  :  "  We  are  not  vet  satisfied  !  Give  Him 
to  as  !     Give  Him  to  us  !     We  will  crucify  Him ! "     "  But/' 


CHRIST  OX  CA L  VAR  Y.  163 

savs  Pilate,  '^  I  am  innocent  of  His  blood  !  "  And  then  came 
a  word — and  this  word  lias  brought  a  curse  upon  tlie  Jews 
from  that  day  to  this.  Then  came  the  word  that  brought 
the  conse(]ucnces  of  their  crime  on  tln^ir  hard  hearts  and 
blinded  intellects.  They  cried  out :  "  His  blood  be  upon  us 
and  upon  our  children  !  'Crucify  Him  !  "  "  But/'  says  Pihite, 
*'  here  is  a  man  in  prison  ;  he  i§  a  robber  and  a  murderer  ! 
And  here  is  Jesus  of  Nazereth  whom  1  declare  to  be  inno- 
cent !  One  of  these  I  nuist  release.  Which  will  you  have — 
Jesus  or  Barrabas?"  And  they  cried  out  "  BarraV>as  !  give 
us  Barrabas  !  But  let  Jesus  be  crucified  !  "  Here  is  the 
Son  of  God  compared  to  the  robber  and  the  murderer !  And 
tlie  robber  and  murderer  is  declared  fit  to  live,  and  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  is  declared  fit  only  to  die !  The 
vilest  man  in  Jerusalem  declared  in  that  hour  that  he  would 
not  associate  with  our  Lord,  and  that  the  Son  of  God  \Aas 
not  worthy  to  breathe  the  air  polluted  by  this  man  !  So 
Barrabas  "came  forth  rejoicing  in  his  escape :  and,  as  he 
mingled  in  the  crowd,  he  too,  threw  up  his  hands  and  ciied 
ou^,  ''  Oh,  let  Him  be  crucified  !  let  Him  be  cracified  !  " 

He  is  led  forth  from  the  tribunal  of  Pilate.  And  now, 
just  outsid(!  of  the  Prefect's  door,  there  are  men  holding  up  a 
long,  weighty,  rude  cross,  that  they  had  made  rapidly ;  for 
tliey  took  two  large  beams,  put  one  across  the  other,  fastened 
them  with  great  nails,  and  ma<le  it  strong  enough  to  uphold 
a  full-gTown  man.  There  is  the  cross  !  There  is  the  man 
with  the  nails !  And  there  are  all  the  accompaniments  of 
the  execution.  And  He  who  is  scarcely  able  to  stand, — He, 
bruised  and  afflicted, — the  Man  of  Sorrows,  almost  fainting 
with  infirmity.  He  is  told  to  take  that  cross  upon  his  bleed- 
ing, wounded  shoulders,  and  to  go  forward  to  the  mountain 
of  Calvary.  Taking  to  him  that  cross,  holding  it  to  His 
wounded  breast,  putting  to  it,  in  tender  kisses,  the  lips  tliat 
were  distilling  blood,  the  Son  of  God,  with  the  cross  upon  His 
shoulders,  turns  His  faint  and  tottering  footsteps  towards  the 
steep  and  painful  way  that  led  to  Calvary.  Behold  Him  as 
He  goes  forth  !  That  cross  is  a  weight  almost  more  than  a 
man  can  carry :  and  it  is  upon  the  shoulders  of  one  from 
whom  all  strength  and  manliness  and  courage  are  gone  ! 
Behcdd  the  Bedeemer,  as  He  toils  painfully  along,  amid  the 
shouts  and  shrieks  of  the  enraged  people  !  Behcdd  Him  as  he 
toils  along  the  flinty  way,  the  soldiers  driving  Him  on,   the 


104  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCO LJiSEH. 

people  inciting  tlieiiij  every  one  rusliing-  and  liastening-  to  Cal- 
vary, to  witness  the  execution.  John,  the  beloved  disciple, 
follows  Him.  A  few  of  His  faithful  disciples  toil  along. 
But  there  is  one  who  traces  eacli  of  His  blo(xl-stained  foot- 
steps ;  there  is  one  who  follows  Him  with  a  breaking  lieart : 
there  is  one  whose  very  soul  within  her  is  pierced  and  torn 
with  the  sword  of  sorrow.  Oh,  need  I  name  the  Mother,  the 
Queen  of  Martyrs?  In  that  hour  of  His  martyrdom,  Mary, 
the  mother  of  Jesus,  followed  immediately  in  His  footsteps, 
and  her  whole  soul  went  forth  in  prayer  for  an  opportunity 
to  approach  Him  to  wipe  the  blood  from  Plis  sacred  face. 
Oh,  if  the}^  would  only  let  her  come  to  Him,  and  say,  '^My 
child  !  I  am  with  you  !  "  If  they,  would  only  let  her  take 
in  her  womanly  arms,  from  oft"  the  shoulders  of  her  dear  Son, 
that  heavy  cross  that  He  cannot  bear!  But  no  !  She  must 
witness  His  misery ;  she  must  witness  His  pain. 

•He  toils  along:  He  takes  the  first  few  steps  up  the 
rugged  side  of  Calvary.  Suddenly  His  heart  ceases  to  beat  5 
the  light  leaves  His  eyes ;  He  sways,  for  a  moment,  to  and 
fro  •  the  weakness  and  the  sorrow  of  death  are  upon  Him  ;  He 
totters,  falls  to  the  earth;  and  down,  with  a  lieavy  crash, 
comes  the  weighty  cross  upon  the  prostrate  fomi  of  Jesus 
Christ !  Oh,  behold  Him,  as  for  the  third  time  He  embraces 
that  earth  which  is  sanctified  and  redeemed  by  His  love  ! 
IVIary  rushes  forward ;  Mary  thinks  her  child  is  dead  :  she 
thinks  that  terrible  cross  must  have  crushed  Him  into  the 
earth.  She  rushes  forward  ;  but  with  rude  and  Ijarbarous 
words  the  woman  is  flung  aside.  The  cross  is  lifted  up  and 
placed  on  the  shoulders  of  Simon  of  Cyrene ;  and,  with 
blows  and  blasphemies,  the  Saviour  of  the  world  is  obliged 
to  rise  from  that  earth  ;  and,  worn  with  the  sorrows  and 
afflictions  of  death.  He  faces  the  rugged  steep  on  the  summit 
of  which  is  the  place  destined  for  His  crucifixion.  Arrived  at 
the  place,  they  tear  off  His  gamients  ;  they  take  from  Him 
the  seamless  garment  which  His  mother's  loving  hands  had 
woven  for  Him  ;  they  take  the  humble  clothing  in  which  the 
Son  of  God  had  robed  Himself, — saturated,  steeped  as  it  is  in 
His  blood ;  and,  in  removing  them,  they  open  afresh  every 
wound,  and  once  again  the  saving  blood  of  Chiist  is  poured 
out  upon  the  ground.  With  rude,  blasphemous  words  tlie 
God-man  is  told  to  lie  down  upon  that  cross.  Of  His  own  free 
will  He  stretches  His  tender  limbs,  puts  forth  His  hands,  and 


CHRIST  OX  CAL VAIl Y.  105 

ptretclies  out  His  feet  at  tlieir  order.  Tlie  executioners  take 
tlie  liails  and  the  liaminer,  and  they  kneel  upon  His  sacred 
bosom  ;  they  press  out  His  hands  till  they  bring  the  palms  to 
where  they  had  made  the  holes  to  fit  the  nails.  They  stretch 
Him  out  upon  that  cross,  even  as  the  Paschal  Lamb  was 
stretched  out  upon  the  altar  ;  they  kneel  upon  the  cross ;  they 
lay  the  nails  upon  the  pahns  of  His  hands.  The  first  ])low 
drives  the  n;.il  deep  into  his  hands,  the  next  blow  sends  it 
into  the  cross.  Blow  follows  blow.  They  are  inflamed  with 
the  rage  of  hell.  Earnestly  they  work, — and  hell  delights 
in  the  scene, — tearing  the  muscles  and  the  sinews  of  His 
hands  and  feet.  Rude,  terrible  blows  fall  on  these  nails,  and 
reecho  in  the  heart  of  the  Virgin,  until  that  heart  seems  to 
be  broken  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  And,  now,  when  they 
have  driven  these  nails  to  the  heads,  fastening  Him  to  the 
wood,  the  cross  is  lifted  up  from  the  ground.  Slowly, 
solemnly,  the  figure  of  Jesus  Christ,  all  red  with  blood,  all 
torn  and  disfigured,  rises  into  the  air,  until  the  cross,  attain- 
ing its  full  height,  is  fixed  into  its  socket  in  the  earth.  The 
lianner  of  salvation  is  flung  out  over  the  world ;  and  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  and  the  Redeemer  of  mankind,  ap- 
pears in  mid-air,  and  looks  out  over  the  crowd  and  over  Jerusa- 
lem, over  hill  and  valle}^,  far  away  towards  the  Sea  of  Galilee, 
and  all  around  the  horizon  ;  and  the  dying  eyes  of  the  Saviour 
are  turned  over  the  land  and  the  people  for  w^hom  He  is 
shedding  His  blood.  Uplifted  in  mid-air, — the  eternal 
sacrifice  of  the  Redeemer  for  everlasting, — hanging  from 
these  three  terrible  nails  on  the  cross, — for  three  hours  He 
remained.  Every  man  took  up  his  position.  IMary,  His 
Mother,  approaches,  for  this  is  the  hour  of  her  agony  ;  she 
must  suffer  in  soul  what  He  suffers  in  body.  John,  the  dis- 
ciple of  love,  approaches,  and  takes  his  stand  imderhis  ^Mas- 
tei-'s  outstretched  hands.  Mary  Magdalen  rashes  through 
the  guards,  to  the  feet  of  her  Lord  and  blaster;  they 
are  now  bathed  with  other  tears — with  the  tears  of  blood 
that  save  the  world, — the  feet  which  it  was  her  joy  to  ^\•eep 
over!  •  And  now  she  clasps  the  cross,  and  pours  out  her 
tears,  until  they  mingle  with  the  blood  which  flows  down 
His  feet.  There  are  the  Pharisees  and  the  Scribes,  who  had 
gained  their  point ;  they  come  and  stand  before  tlie  cross  ; 
they  look  upon  that  figure  of  awful  pain  and  misery;  they 
see  tliose  thorns  sunk  deeply  into  that  drooping  head ;    \\  itli 


lOG  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

no  love  in  their  hearts,  they  see  the  agony  expressed  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Victim  who  is  dying  ;  and  then  looking  up  exult- 
iiigly,  they  rejoice  and  say  to  Him:  ^^  You  said  you  could 
destroy  the  Temple,  and  build  it  up  in  three  days ;  now, 
come  down  from  the  cross,  and  we  will  believe  in  and  wor- 
ship you."  The  Roman  soldier  stood  there,  admiring  the 
courage  with  which  the  man  died.  The  tliird  hour  is  ap- 
IDroachiiig.  The  penitent  thief  on  His  right  hand  had  received 
his  pardon.     A  sudden  gloom  gathers  round  the  scene. 

Before  we  come  to  the  last  moment,  I  ask  you  to  con- 
sider Jesus  Christ  as  your  God.  I  ask  you  to  consider  the 
sacrifice  that  He  made,  and  to  consider  the  circumstances 
under  which  He  approached  that  last  moment  of  His  life. 
All  He  had  in  the  world  was  some  little  uKniey :  it  was  kept 
to  give  to  the  poor  ;  Judas  had  that,  and  he  had  stolen  it. 
Christ  had  literally  nothing  but  the  simple  garments  with 
which  He  had  been  clothed ;  these  the  soldiers  took,  and  they 
raffled  for  them  under  His  d^^ing  eyes.  What  remained  for 
Him  I  The  love  of  His  mother ;  the  sympathy  of  John  ?  But 
He,  uplifted  on  the  cross,  said  to  Mary:  "Woman,  behold 
thy  son  !  "  And  to  John  He  said ;  "  Son,  behold  thy  mother ! 
Thus  I  give  one  to  the  other ;  let  that  love  suffice  :  and  leave 
Me  all  alone  and  abandoned  to  die."  What  remained  to 
Him  ?  His  reputation  for  sanctity,  for  wisdom,  and  for  power. 
His  reputation  for  sanctity  was  so  great,  that  the  people  said; 
"  This  man  never  could  do  such  things  if  He  had  not  come 
from  God."  And  as  to  His  wisdom  :  His  reputation  for  wis- 
dom was  such  that  we  read,  not  one  of  the  Phansees  or  Doc- 
tors of  the  Law  had  the  courage  to  argue  Avith  Him.  His 
reputation  for  power  was  such  that  all  the  people  said :  "  This 
man  speaks  and  preaches,  not  as  the  Pharisees,  but  as  one 
having  power."  Christ  had  sacrificed  and  given  up  His 
reputation  for  sanctity,  for  He  was  crucified  as  a  blasphemer 
and  a  teacher  of  evil.  His  reputation  for  wisdom  was 
sacrificed  in  the  course  of  His  Passion,  when  Herod  declar- 
ed that  He  was  a  fool.  Clothed  in  a  white  garment,  in 
derision.  He  was  marched  through  the  streets  of  Jerusalem, 
from  Herod's  palace  to  Pilate's  house,  dressed  as  a  fool ;  and 
men  came  to  their  doors  to  point  the  finger  of  scorn  and 
laugh  at  Him,  and  reproached  each  other  for  having  listened 
to  His  doctrine.  His  reputation  for  power  was  gone.  They 
came  to  the  foot  of  the  cross  and  said :  "  Now,  if  you  have 


CHRIST  ON  CALVARY.  .107 

the  power,  come  down  from  tliat  cross  and  we  will  believe 
you."  Now,  all  tlie  man's  earthly  possessions  are  gone  :  HiD 
few  garments  are  gone;  Mary's  love  and  sustaining  com- 
passion are  gone  ;  His  reputation  is  gone  ;  He  is  one  wound, 
irom  head  to  foot ;  the  anger  of  man  has  vented  itself  upon 
Him.  What  remains  for  Him  ?  The  ineffable  consolations  of 
His  divinity  ;  the  infinite  peace  of  the  Godhead,  the  Father ! 
Ob,  Man  of  SoiTow  !  Oh,  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  cling  to  that ! 
Whatever  else  may  be  taken  from  you,  that  cannot  be  taken 
away.  Oh,  Master,  lean  upon  l^hy  Godhead !  Oh,  cruci- 
fied, bleeding,  dying  Lord,  do  not  give  up  that  which  is  Thy 
peace  and  Thy  comfort, — Thy  joy  in  the  midst  of  all  this  suf- 
fering !  But  what  do  I  see  ?  The  dying  head  is  lifted  up  ; 
the  drooping  eyes  are  cast  heavenwards;  an  expression  of 
agony  absorbing  all  others  comes  over  the  dying  face ;  and  a 
voice  breaks  fortli  from  the  quivering,  agonized  lips — "  Mv 
God  !  My  God  !  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  Me  !  "  The  all- 
sufficient  comfort  of  the  divinity  and  the  sustaining  power 
of  the  Father's  love  are  put  away  from  Him  in  that  horn- !  A 
cloud  came  between  Jesus  Christ  upon  the  cross,  the  victim 
of  our  sins,  and  the  Fathei-'s  face  in  Heaven  ;  and  that  cloud 
was  the  concentrated  anger  of  God  which  came  upon  His 
divine  Son,  be(;anse  of  our  sins  and  our  transgressions.  Not 
that  His  divinity  quitted  Him.  No;  He  was  still  God ;  but 
by  His  own  act  and  free  will,  He  put  away  the  comfort  and 
the  sustaining  powder  of  the  divinity  for  a  time,  in  order  that 
every  element  of  sorrow,  every  grief,  every  misery  of  which 
the  greatest  victim  of  this  eai^th  was  capable,  should  be  all 
concentrated  upon  Him  at  the  hom^  of  His  death.  And  then, . 
having  used  these  solemn  words.  He  waited  the  moment 
when  the  Father's  will  should  separate  the  soul  from  the 
body. 

Now,  Mary  and  John  have  embraced  :  Judas  is  struggling 
in  the  last  throes  of  his  self-imposed  death  :  Peter  has  wept 
his  tears.  The  devil  for  a  moment  triumphs  :  and  the  man-' 
God  upon  the  cross  awaits  the  hour  and  the  moment  of  the 
world's  redemjition.  The  sun  in  the  Heavens  is  withdrawn 
behind  mysterious  clouds :  and  though  it  was  but  three 
o'clock  in  the  day,  a  darkness  like  that  of  midnight  came 
upon  the  land.  Men  looked  upon  each  other  in  horror  and  in 
terror.  Presently  a  rumbling  noise  is  heard :  they  look 
around    and   see  the    hills  and  the   mountains    tremble  on 


108  FATHER  BUBKE'S  DISCO UBSES. 

their  hases  :  the  very  ground  seems  to  rock  beneath  them  j 
it  groans  as  though  the  earth  were  breaking  up  from  its  cen- 
tre ;  the  rocks  are  splitting  up ;  and  round  them  strange  fig- 
ures are  flitting  liere  and  there ;  the  graves  are  opened,  and 
the  dead  entond^ed  there  are  walking  in  the  dark  ways  before 
them.  "What  is  this!  Who  is  this  temble  man  that  we 
have  put  on  that  cross  1 "  The  earth  quakes ;  darkness  is  still 
upon  it ;  perfect  silence  reigns  over  Calvary,  unbroken  by 
the  cry  of  the  dying  Redeemer, — unbroken  by  the  voice  of 
the  scoffers, — unbroken  by  the  sobs  of  the  Magdalen.  Every 
heart  seems  to  stand  still.  Then,  over  that  silence,  in  the 
midst  of  that  darkness,  is  heard  the  ten-ible  cry — "  0  Father, 
into  Thy  hands  I  commend  My  spirit  !  "  The  head  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  droops ;  the  man  upon  the  cross  is  dead ! 
And  the  world  is  saved  and  redeemed  !  The  moment  the  cry 
came  forth  from  the  dying  lips  of  Jesus  Ciiiist,  the  devil, 
who  st(^od  there,  knew  that  it  was  the  Son  of  Go'd  who  was 
crucified,  and  that  his  day  was  gone.  Howling  in  despair,  he 
fled  from  the  Redeemei-'s  presence  into  the  lowest  depths  of 
hell.  The  world  is  saved !  The  world  is  redeemed !  Man's 
sin  is  wiped  out !  The  blood  that  washed  away  the  iniquity 
of  our  race  has  ceased  to  flow  from  the  dead  and  pulseless 
heart  of  Jesus.  Wrapt  in  prayer,  Mary  bowled  down  her 
head  under  the  weight  of  her  soitows  !  the  Magdalen  looked 
up  and  beheld  the  dead  face  of  her  Redeemer.  John 
stretched  out  his  hands  and  looked  upon  that  face.  The 
Roman  soldier  lays  hold  of  his  lance,  under  some  strange 
impulse.  Word  comes  "that  the  body  was  to  be  taken  down  ; 
they  did  not  know  whether  our  Lord  was  dead ;  there 
might  yet  some  remnant  of  life  remain  in  Him.  The 
question  was  to  prove  that  he  w^as  dead ;  and  this  man  ap- 
proaches. As  a  warrior,  he  puts  his  lance  in  rest,  rushes  for- 
ward with  all  the  strength  of  his  arm,  and  drives  the  lance 
right  into  the  heart  of  the  Lord  !  The  heavy  cross  sways  j 
it  seems  as  if  it  is  about  to  fall  j  the  lance  quivers  for  an  in- 
stant in  the  wound  j  the  man  draws  it  forth  again  j  and  forth 
from  the  heart  of  the  dead  Christ  stream  the  waters  of  life 
and  the  blood  of  redemption !  The  soldier  drew  back  his 
lance,  and  the  next  moment,  on  his  knees,  before  the  Cruci- 
fied, Avith  the  lance  dripping  with  the  blood  of  the  Lord  still 
in  his  hand,  he  cried  out:  "Truly  this  Man  was  the  Son  of 
God  !  "     Then  the  earthquake  began  again  j  the  dead  were 


CHIl IS T  OX  CA  L  FA R Y.  109 

seen  passing  in  fearful  array,  turning  the  eyes  of  the  tomb 
upon  the  faces  of  those  Phaiisees  who  had  crucified  the  Lord. 
And  the  people,  frightened,  became  conscious  that  they  had 
committed  a  terrible  crime,  when  tliey  heard  Longinus,  the 
Roman  soldier,  cry  out, — "This  Man  is  truly  the  SouofG<»d, 
whom  you  have  crucified."  Then  came  down  from-  Calvary 
the  crowds,  exclaiming — "Yes,  truly  this  is  the  Son  of  God," 
And  they  went  down  the  hillside,  weejung  and  beating  their 
breasts  !  Oh,  how  much  we  cost !  Oh,  how  great  was  the 
price  that  He  paid  for  us !  Oh,  how  generously  He  gave 
all  He  had — and  He  was  God — for  your  salvation  and 
mine!  It  is  well  to  rejoice  and  to  be  here;  it  is  well  to 
come  and  contemplate  the  blessings  which  that  blessed,  gra- 
cious Lord  has  conferred  on  us.  It  is,  also,  well  to  consider 
what  He  paid  and  how  nmch  it  cost  Him.  And  if  we  con- 
sider this,  then,  with  Mary  the  mother,  and  Mary  the  Mag- 
dalen, and  John  the  Evangelist  and  friend — then  will  our 
hearts  be  afiiicted.  For  the  soul  that  is  not  afiiicted  on  this 
day  sliall  be  wiped  out  from  the  pages  of  the  Book  of  Life. 


THE  CATHOLIC  CHURCH  THE  SALVATION  OF 
SOCIETY. 

[  A  Lecture  delivered  hy  the  Very  Rev.  T.  K  Burle,  O.P.,  in  the  Church 
of  St.   Charles  Borromeo,  Brooklyn,  April  2,  1872,] 

My  rRiE:NDS :  The  subject  wliich,  as  you  know,  lias  been 
announced  to  you,  and  which  I  purpose  to  treat  before  you 
this  evening,  is  the  proposition  that  ^'  The  Catholic  Church 
is  the  Salvation  of  Society/'  Perhaps  there  are  some  among 
you  who  think  I  am  an  unusually  courageous  man  to  make  so 
wild  and  so  rash  an  assertion.  But  it  must  be  acknowledged, 
indeed,  tliat,  f(^r  the  past  eighteen  hundred  years  that  the 
Catholic  Church  has  existed,  Society  has  aways  endeavored 
to  get  away  from  her  grasp  and  to  live  without  her.  People 
who  admit  the  action  of  the  Chm'ch,  who  allow  it  to  in- 
fluence their  history,  who  let  it  influence  their  lives — if 
they  rise  to  the  height  of  their  Christian  elevation,  if 
they  conform  themselves  to  the  teachings  of  what  is  true,- 
if  they  avail  themselves  of  the  graces  of  the  Chm'ch,  are 
verv  often  scoffed  at  and  called  a  priest-ridden  and  besotted 
people.  Nowadays,  it  is  the  fashion  to  look  upon  that  man 
as  the  best  of  his  class  who  has  succeeded  the  most  completely 
in  emancipating  himself  from  every  control  of  religion,  or  of 
the  Catholic  Church.  In  one  sense,  it  is  a  great  advantage 
to  a  man  to  have  no  religitm, — to  shake  off  the  influence  of 
the  Cliurch.  Suck  a  man  remains  ^vithout  a  conscience  and 
without  remorse  of  mind.  He  saves  himself  from  those 
moments  of  uneasiness  and  self-accusation  that  come  to  most 
men  until  they  completely  lose  all  reverence  for  Ood ;  and 
the  consequence  is  that,  if  he  is  a  sinner,  and  in  the  way  of 
sin,  he  enjoys  it  all  the  more )  and  he  can  make  the  more  use 
of  his  time  in  every  pathway  of  iniquity,  if  he  has  no  obstacles 
of  conscience  or  of  religion  to  fetter  him.  So  far,  it  is  an 
advantage  to  be  without  religion.  The  robber,  for  instance, 
can  rob  more  confidently  if  he  can  manage  to  forget  that 
tliere   is   a   God  above  liim.     The  murderer  can  wash  bis 


THE  ClTURCn  THE  SALVATION  OF  SOCIETY.       Ill 

hands  ^vith  more  serenity,  no  matter  how  deeply  he  stains 
them, — if  there  is  no  condemning  record,  no  accusing  voice, 
no  ear  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  bh>od  that  cries  out  against 
him  for  satisfaction,  lie  can  pursue  his  misdeeds  all  tlie 
more  at  his  own  ease.  And  so,  for  this,  among  many  otlier 
reasons,  the  world  is  constantly  trying  to  emancipate  itself 
from  the  dominion  of  God,  and  from  the  control  of  the  Church, 
the  messenger  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world. 

It  would  seem,  therefore,  at  first  sight  rather  a  hazardous 
thing  to  stand  up  in  the  face  of  the  w^orld,  and  in  the  face  of 
society  to-day — this  boasted  society — and  say  to  them  : 
"  You  cannot  live, — you  cannot  get  on  Avithout  the  Catholic 
Church  !  She  can  do  without  you  !  A  coterie  here !  A 
tril)e  there  !  A  nation  elsewhere  !  A  race  beyond  !  Of 
what  account  are  you  to  her,  speaking  humanly?  She  can  do 
without  you.  But  you,  at  your  peril,  must  let  her  in,  because 
you  cannot  do  without  her!"  Now,  this  is  the  pith  and 
substance  of  all  that  I  intend  to  say  to  you  here  to-night  ]  but 
not  to  say  it  witliout  proof:  for  I  do  not  ask  any  man  here  to 
accept  one  iota  of  what  I  say,  on  my  mere  assertion,  until  I 
have  proved  it. 

My  pro])osition,  as  you  perceive,  is  that  the  Catholic  Church 
is  the  salvation  of  society — and  it  involves  three  distinct 
pro{)Ositions,  although  it  may  appear  to  you  to  be  only  one  : 
First,  it  involves  the  proposition  that  society  requires  to  be 
saved, — that  it  requires  something  for  its  salvation.  Then, 
it  involves  the  proposition  that  the  Catholic  Church,  so  far, 
has  been  the  salvation  of  the  world  in  times  i)ast; — out  of 
Avhich  grows  the  third  proposition :  namely,  that  she  is 
necessary  to  the  world  in  all  future  time ;  and  it  is  her 
destiny  to  be,  in  time  to  come,  what  she  has  been  in  time 
past, — the  salvation  of  society.  These  are  three  distinct 
])ropositi(^ns. 

The  man  who  admires  this  centnry  of  ours  and  who 
serenely  glories  in  it, — who  calls  it  "the  Age  of  Progress" 
— the  "Age  of  Enlightenment;" — who  speaks  of  his  own 
land, — be  it  Ireland  or  America,  or  Italy  or  France, — as  a 
country  of  enlightenment,  and  its  people  as  an  enlightened 
people, — this  man  stands  amazed,  when  I  say  to  him  that 
this  boasted  society  requires  salvation.  Somebody  or  other 
must  save  it.  For,  consider  what  it  has  done?  What  has 
it  produced  without  the  saving   influence   of  the    Catholic 


11-2  FATUER  BUnKE'S  DISCOUIiSES. 

Clinrcli  ?  We  mav  analyze  society,  as  I  iutenrl  to  view  it, 
IVoiii  an  intellectual  stand-point.  Then  we  shall  see  the 
society  of  learning-, — the  society  of  art  and  of  literatnre. 
Or  we  nia}^  view  it  from  a  moral  stand-point, — that  is  to  say, 
in  the  government  of  the  world,  and  how  the  wheels  of 
society  work  in  this  boasted  progress  of  onrs, — emancipated 
fiom  the  Catholic  Church,  as  this  society  has  been  mainly 
for  the  last  three  hundred  years;  in  some  countries  more, 
in  some  countries  less,  in  some  countries  entirely.  Now,  I 
ask  yon,  what  has  this  society  pnxluced,  intellectually, 
morally,  politically  ?  Intellectually,  it  has  produced  a  philo- 
sophy tbat  asks  us,  at  this  hour  of  the  day,  to  believe  in 
ghosts!  The  last  climax  of  the  philosophy  of  this  nineteenth 
century  of  ours  is  "  Spiritualism,"  of  which  you  have  all 
heard.  The  philosopher  of  to-day,  unlike  even  the  philoso- 
pher of  the  Pagan  times  of  old,  does  not  direct  his  studies, 
nor  the  labors  of  his  mind,  to  the  investigation  of  the  truth 
and  of  the  develojiment  of  the  hidden  secrets  of  nature — of 
the.  harmonies  of  the  soul  of  man — of  the  wants  of  the  spirit 
of  man.  To  none  of  these  does  the  philosopher  of  to-day 
direct  his  attention.  But  this  man, — this  leader  of  mind  in 
society, — gets  a  lot  of  his  friends  round  a  table ;  and  there 
they  sit  and  listen  until  ''the  spirits"  begin  to  "knock:"  that 
is  the  pith  and  substance  of  his  philosophy.  Another  man — 
one  of  another  great  school  •  and,  indeed,  these  two  schools 
may  be  said  to  have  divided  the  philosophical  empire  of  our 
age ; — this  disciple  of  another  school  stands  up  in  our 
churches  and  pulpits,  and  says:  "0  man!  s<m  of  the  children 
of  men, — since  thou  hast  received  a  commission  to  sound  the 
Scriptures — to  mend  the  '  Word  of  God,'  as  it  is  called, — ; 
believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  our  common  ancestor  was  an 
ape, — and  that  it  was  by  the  merest  accident, — the  accideiat 
of  progression ;  eating  a  certain  kind  of  food ;  endeavoring, 
by  degrees,  to  walk  erect  instead  of  crawling  on  our  hands 
and  feet, — it  was  by  the  merest  accident, — a  congeries  of 
accidental  circumstances, — :that  we  happen  to  be  men,  and 
have  not  tails  !  "  This  is  the  philosophy  of  the  nineteenth 
century  !  This  is  the  intellectual  grandeur  and  "  Progress 
of  the  Age  "  that  says :   "  I  do  not  require  salvation  !  " 

The  moral  progress  of  this  society,  which  has  emancipated 
itself  from  the  Cathijlic  Church, — what  is  it  1  It  has  pio- 
duced,  in  this  our  society,  sins,  of  which,  as  a  priest  and  a 


THE  CHUllCn  THE  SALVATION  OF  SOCIETY.       113 

man,  I  am  ashamed  to  speak.  It  lias  produced  in  tlie  city 
of  New  York  the  terrible  insidt  to  a  crucified  Lord, — that  a 
woman,  pretending  to  be  modest,  should  have  chosen  Good- 
Friday  night  to  advocate  impurity  !  Just  as  the  "  intellec- 
tual" development  of  our  society,  emancipated  from  the 
Cliurch,  has  arrived  at  the  glorious  discovery  of  ^^  Spiritual- 
ism," so  the  "  moral "  deveh^pment  of  this  age  of  ours  has 
arrived  at  the  deep  depth  of  ^'  free  love." 

What  is  the  political  spirit  of  society,  and  the  perfection 
to  which  it  has  attained  since  it  has  been  emancipated  from 
the  Cliurch  f  Why,  it  has  produced  the  "  politician  "  of  our 
day.  It  has  produced  the  ruler  who  imagines  that  he  is  set 
np, .throughout  all  the  nations,  only  to  grasp, — justly,  if  he 
can,  unjustly,  if  he  has  no  other  means, — every  privilege  of 
power  and  of  absolutism.  It  has  produced  in  the  people  an 
unwillingness  to  obey  even  just  laws.  I  need  not  tell  you  ; 
you  have  the  evidence  of  your  own  senses  ;  you  have  records 
of  the  daily  actions  of  the  world  laid  before  you  every  morn- 
ing. This  is  the  issue  of  the  dominant  spirit  of  society,  when 
society  emancipates  itself  from  the  Church,  and,  by  so  doing, 
endeavors  to  shake  off  God.  Now  we  come  to  the  great 
question  :  Qu'is  medecabltar  f  Who  shall  touch  society  with  a 
scientific  and  healing  hand  '?  What  virtue  can  we  infuse  in- 
to it?  That  must  come,  I  assert,  from  God,  and  from  Him 
alone,  of  whom  the  Scriptures  say  that  "He  made  the  people 
healthy  "  [fecit  populmn  sanabilem) ;  that  He  has  made  our 
nature  so  that,  even  in  its  worst  infirmity,  it  is  capable  of 
cure.  He  came  and  found  it  in  its  worst  infirmity ;  society 
rotten  to  its  heart's  core  ;  and  the  interior  rottenness — the 
obscurity  of  the  intellect — the  corraption  of  the  heart — 
manifesting  itself  in  the  actions  and  sins  of  which  St.  Paul 
the  Apostle  says,  "  Nee  nominabitur  in  vobis" — that  they 
must  not  be  even  mentioned  among  Christian  men.  Christ, 
the  Son  of  God,  because  He  was  God — equal  to  the  Father 
— girding  Himself  up  to  the  mighty  work  of  healing  this 
society,  came  down  from  Heaven  and  cured  it,  when  no  other 
hand  but  His  could  have  touched  it  witli  healing ;  when  no 
other  virtue  or  power  save  His  could,  at  all,  have  given  life 
to  the  dead  wc^rld,  purity  to  the  corrupt  W(jrld,  light  to  the 
darkened  intellect  of  man.  From  Him  came  life  to  the  dead 
— and  that  life  was  light  to  the  darkened  and  strength  to  the 
weak, — because  He  was  God. 


Ill  FA  THEE  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

Then  tlio  nations  of  Greece  and  Kome  appeared  in  the 
strength  of  their  power, — proud  in  their  mental  culture, — 
proud  in  the  grandeur  of  their  civilization  ; — and  contemptu- 
ously put  away  and  despised  the  message  of  the  Divine  Faith 
which  was  sent  to  them ;  and  for  tln-ee  hundred  long  years 
persecuted  the  Church  of  God.  This  great  instructress,  who 
came  to  talk  in  a  language  that  they  knew  not,  and  to  teach 
them  things  that  they  never  heard  of — both  the  things  of 
Heaven  and  the  things  of  earth ; — this  great  instructress,  for 
three  hundred  years,  lay  hid  in  the  caves  and  catacombs  of 
the  earth,  afraid  to  show  her  face ;  for  the  whole  world — all 
the  power  of  Pagan  Rome — was  raised  against  her.  There 
was  blood  upon  her  virgin  face;  there  was  blood  upon* her 
unspotted  bosom — the  blood  of  the  innocent  and  of  the  pure ; 
and  all  the  ^vorld  knew  of  Christianity  was  the  strong  testi- 
mony which,  from  time  to  time,  was  given  of  it,  by  j^outh 
and  maiden,  in  the  arena  of  Rome,  or  in  the  amphitheatres 
of  Antioch  or  of  Corinth:  Then,  in  punishment  for  their 
pride, — as  an  act  of  vengeance  upon  them  for  their  rejection 
of  His  gospel, — the  Almighty  God  resolved  to  break  up  their 
ancient  civilization ;  to  sweep  away  their  pow-er ;  to  bring 
the  hordes  of  barbarous  nations  from  the  North  of  Europe 
into  the  very  heart  of  Rome,  the  centre  of  the  world's  empire, 
and  to  crush  and  destroy  it  with  fire  and  sword,  and  utterly 
to  break  up  all  that  society  which  was  formed,  of  old,  upon 
the  literature  and  the  philosophy  of  Greece  and  of  Rome. 
Consequently,  we  behold,  in  the  fifth  century,  all  the  ancient 
civilization  completely  destroyed,  and  the  world  reduced  again 
almost  to  the  chaos  of  barbarism  from  which  the  Pagans  of 
(dd  had  elevated  it.  Arts  and  sciences  perished,  when  the 
Goth  and  Vandal,  Visigoth,  and  Ostrogoth,  and  Hun  swept 
down,  like  a  swarm  of  locusts,  over  the  old  Roman  Empire, 
and  all  the  lands  subject  to  Roman  sw^^ay.  Alaric,  at  the 
head  of  his  Visigoths,  was  swooping  over  Rome.  He  was 
asked  to  spare  the  city  out  of  respect  to  the  civilization  of 
the  world  and  the  tombs  of  the  Apostles  !  "  I  cannot  with- 
hold," exclaimed  the  Visigoth,  '^  I  cannot  withhold.  I  hear 
within  me  a  mysterious  voice  v^rhich  says  :  '  Alaric  !  Alaric  ! 
On  !  on  to  Rome  ! ' "  And  so  he  came  and  sacked  the  city, 
burned  and  destroyed  its  temples,  its  palaces,  its  libraries, 
and  its  glories  of  painting  and  sculpture — hurled  them  all 
into    the    dust!     And    the    desolation    spread    world-wide 


THE  cuuncn  the  salvation  of  society,     iir, 

wlierever  a  vestigo  of  ancient  civilization  was  fonnd  ;  until, 
at  tlie  end  of  tliat  fatal  centnrv,  the  Clinrch  of  God  found 
herself  standing-  upon  the  ruins  of  a  world  tliat  had  passed 
away.  Before  her  were  the  countless  hordes  of  the  savage 
children  of  the  North,  out  of  which  rugged  material  it  was 
her  destiny  and  lier  office  to  form  the  society  of  modern 
times.  Hard,  indeed,  w^as  the  task  which  she  undertook — 
not  only  to  evangelize  them — to  teach  them  the  things  of 
God,  but,  also  to  teach  them  the  beauties  of  human  art  and 
human  science — to  soften  them  with  the  genial  influences 
and  the  tender  appliances  of  learning ; — to  gain  their  hearts 
and  soften  their  souls,  and  mollify  their  manners  and  refine 
them  by  every  human  appliance  as  w^ell  as  by  every  Divine 
influence.  For  this  task  did  she  gather  herself  up.  She,  in 
that  day,  collected  with  a  careful  and  a  venerating  hand  all 
that  remained  out  of  the  ruin  of  ancient  literature,  of  ancient 
poetry,  of  ancient  history,  in  the  languages  of  Greece  and  of 
Rome.  She  gathered  them  lovingly  and  carefully  to  her 
bosom.  She  laid  them  up  in  her  sacred  recesses, — in  her 
cloisters.  She  applied  diligently  to  the  study  of  them,  and 
to  the  diff'usion  of  them,  the  minds  of  the  holiest  and  best  of 
her  consecrated  children ;  until,  in  a  few  3'ears,  all  that  the 
world  had  of  refinement,  of  learning,  of  all  that  was  refining 
and  gentle  was  concentrated  in  the  person  of  the  lowly  monk 
who, — full  of  the  lore  of  Greece  and  Rome — full  of 
ancient  learning  as  well  as  of  that  of  the  time, — an  artist — 
a  painter — a  musician — a  man  of  letters, — covering  all  wdth 
the  humility  of  his  profession,  and  hiding  all  in  the  cloister, 
— yet  treasured  all  up  for  the  society  that  was  to  come  after 
him,  and.  for  the  honor  and  glory  of  God  and  of  His  Church. 
And  so,  by  degrees,  the  Church  was  enabled  to  found 
schools  and,  then,  colleges, — and  thence  to  form,  gradually, 
universities — and  to  obtain  for  them  and  to  ensure  unto  them 
civic  and  municipal  rights,  as  w^e  shall  see  farther  on. 

Bv  degrees  she  founded  the  "Teat  mediaeval  universities, 
gathering  together  all  those  who  wished  to  learn,  and  sending 
forth  from  her  cloisters  her  Benedictines  and  Cistercians, 
her  Dominicans,  her  Franciscans  to  teach  philosophy  and 
theology,  while  they  illustrated  the  very  highest  art  in  the 
beauty  of  their  paintings  and  the  splendor  which  they  threw 
around  the  Christian  sciences.  Universities  were  founded  by 
her,  into  which  she  gathered  the  j^outh  of  various  nations; 


116  FATHER  B CUKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

and  tlien  seiuling  tlieiii  home,  among  tlieir  rude  and  ragged 
fellow-citizens,  she  spread-  gradually  the  flame  of  human 
knowledge,  as  well  as  the  fire  of  divine  faith  and  sanctity. 
And  thus,  for  many  a  long  centiny,  did  the  Church  labor 
assiduously,  lovingly,  perseveringly ;  and  so  secm-ed  unto  us 
whatever  blessings  of  learning  w^e  possess  to-day.  In  this  wav 
she  saved  society  for  the  time,  by  drawing  forth  its  rude 
chaotic  elements,  and  by  her  patient  action  in  creating  the 
light  of  knowledge  where  the  darkness  of  ignorance  was  be- 
fore,— with  patient  and  persevering  effort  bringing  forth 
order  out  of  disorder — until  her  influence  over  the  world  was 
like  the  word  of  God,  when,  upon  the  first  day  of  creation,  He 
made  all  things,  and  made  them  to  exist  where  n,othing  but 
void  and  darkness  were  before.  Nor  can  the  history  of  by- 
gone times  be  disputed  in  this ;  nor  can  any  man  allege  that 
I  am  claiming  too  much  for  the  Catholic  Church,  when  I 
say  that  she  alone  has  presented  to  us  all  the  splendor  of  the 
Pagan  literature  of  the  ancient  times, — all  the  arts  and  sci- 
ences 5  that  she  alone  has  founded  the  great  schools  and 
universities  of  Christendom  and  of  the  civilized  world — even 
in  Protestant  countries  to-day  j — nay  more,  that  nearly  all 
the  great  scholars  who  shone  as  stare  in  the  firmament  of 
learning  were  her  children, — either  consecrated  to  her  in  the 
priesthood,  or  attached  to  her  by  the  strongest  and  the 
tenderest  bonds  of  faith.  Lest  my  word  in  this  matter  be 
considered  exaggerated,  let  me  read  for  you  the  testimony  of 
a  Protestant  writer  to  what  I  say.     He  says  to  us : 

"  If  the  Catholic  Church  had  done  nothing  more  than  to 
presen'-e  for  us,  by  painful  solicitude  and  unrewarded  toil,  the 
precepts  and  intellectual  treasiu-es  of  Greece  and  Rome,  she 
would  have  been  entitled  to  our  everlasting  gratitude.  But 
her  hierarchy  did  not  merely  preserve  these  treasures.  They 
taught  the  modern  ^vorld  how  to  use  them.  We  can  never 
forget  that  at  least  nine  out  of  every  ten  of  all  the  great  col- 
leges and  universities  in  Christendom  were  founded  by  monks 
or  priests,  bishops  or  archbishops.  This  is  true  of  the  most 
famous  institutions  in  Protestant  as  well  as  in  Catholic  C(jun- 
tries.  And  equally  undeniable  is  the  fact  that  the  greatest 
discoveries  in  the  sciences  and  in  the  arts  (with  the  sole 
exception  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton)  have  been  made  either  by 
Catholics,  or  by  those  who  were  educated  by  them.     Oar 


THE  CJiriiCII  THE  SALVATION  OF  SOCIETY.       117 

ivaders  know  that  Copornicns,  tlip  autlior  of  our  present  sys- 
tem of  astronomy,  lived  and  died  a  poor  parish  priest,  in  an 
obscnre  villao-e  ;  and  Galileo  lived  and  died  a  Catholic.  The 
great  Kepler,  althongli  a  Protestant  himself,  always  acknow- 
ledged that  he  received  the  most  valuable  part  of  his  educa- 
tion from  the  monks  and  priests.  It  were  easy  to  add  to 
these  illustrious  names  many  equally  renowned  in  other 
departments  of  science  as  well  as  literature  and  the  arts, 
including  those  of  statesmen,  orators,  historians,  poets,  and 
artists." 

This  is  the  testimony  of  a  Protestant  writer,  confiiTned  l)y 
tlie  voice  of  histor}^,  to  which  I  fearlessly  apjieal,  when  I  lay 
down  the  proposition  that,  if  tlie  intellectual  darkness,  if  the 
barbarism  of  ignorance  be  a  disease  in  society,  then  history 
proves  that  the  Catholic  Church  has  been  the  salvation  of 
society  in  the  cure  of  that  disease.  I  might  go  deeper  here. 
I  might  show  you  here,  in  the  beautiful  reasoning  of  the  great 
St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  how,  in  the  Catholic  Church  alone,  is 
the  solid  basis  of  all  intellectual  knowledge.  ^^For,"  ob- 
serves the  Saint,  "  every  science,  no  matter  how  different  it 
may  be  from  others, — every  science  rests  upon  certain 
})rinciples  that  are  taken  for  granted — certain  axioms  that  are 
accepted,  without,  being  proved.  Kow,"  he  goes  on  to 
say,  "  the  principle  of  acknowledged  certainty,  of  some  kind 
or  other,  lies  at  the  base  and  at  the  foundation  of  every 
science,  and  of  every  form  of  intellectual  power."  But,  in  the 
sciences  and  in  the  intellectual  world,  we  find  the  same  order, 
the  same  exquisite  harmony,  M'hich,  in  the  works  of  God,  we 
find  in  the  material  and  physical  creation.  The  principle, 
therefore,  of  all  the  arts  and  sciences,  each  with  its  respective 
power,  is  that  all  go  up  in  regular  order  frotn  the  lowest  form 
of  art  to  the  highest  of  human  sciences, — astronomy, — until 
they  touch  divine  theology,  which  teaches  of  God  and  of  the 
things  of  God.  Upon  the  certainty  of  that  First  Science  de- 
pends the  very  idea  of  "  certainty,"  upon  which  every  other 
science  is  based.  And,  therefore,  the  keynote  of  all  know- 
ledge is  found  in  the  science  of  divine  theolc>gy,  which  teaclies 
of  God.  Now,  outside  of  the  Catholic  Church,  there  is  no 
theology,  as  a  science;  because  science  involves  certain  know- 
ledge— and  there  is  no  certain  knowledge  of  divine  things 
outside  the  Catholic  Church.     There  is  no  certain  knowledge 


118  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSE'S. 

of  Divine  things  where  truth  is  said  to  consist  in  the  inquiry 
after  truth,  as  in  Protestantism,  where  religion  is  reduced 
from  the  principle  of  immutable  faith  to  the  mere  result  of 
reasoning,  amounting  to  a  strong  opinion.  There  is  no 
certainty,  therefore,  outside  of  that  Church  that  speaks  of 
God  in  the  very  language  of  God;  that  gives  a  message  sent 
from  the  very  lips  of  God ;  that  puts  that  message  into  the 
Godlike  form  of  immutable  dogma  before  the  minds  of  His 
children,  and  so  starts  them  in  the  pursuit  of  all  human  know- 
ledge, with  the  certain  light  of  divinely-revealed  tnith,  and 
with  the  principle  of  certitude  deeply  seated  in  their  minds. 

Now,  we  pass  from  the  intellectual  view  of  society  to  the 
moral  view  of  it.  In  order  to  understand  the  action  of  the 
Church  here  as  the  sole  salvation  of  society,  I  must  ask  you 
to  consider  the  dangers  which  threaten  society  in  its  moral 
aspect.  These  dangers  are  the  following : — First  of  all,  the 
libertinism,  the  instability,  the  inconstancy,  and  the  impm'ity 
of  man.  Secondly,  the  absence  of  the  element  of  holiness 
and  sanctity  in  the  education  of  childhood.  Thii'dly,  the  sense 
of  irresponsibility,  or  a  personal  liberty  which  not  only  passes 
us  over  from  under  the  control  of  the  law,  but  cuts  off  our 
communication  with  God,  and  makes  us  forget  that  we  are 
responsible  to  God  for  every  action  of  our  lives ;  and  so, 
gradually  brings  a  man  to  believe  that  liberty  and  freedom 
mean  irresponsible  licentiousness  and  impm'ity.  These  I 
bold  to  be  the  three  great  evils  that  threaten  society.  The 
inconstancy  of  man; — for  man  is  fickle  in  his  friendship,  is 
unstable  in  his  love,  is  inconstant  in  his  affections,  subject  to 
a  thousand  passing  sensations  ; — his  soul  laid  open  to  appeals 
from  every  sense, — to  the  ebb  and  flow  of  ever}^  pulse  ; 
and  every  sense  of  his  for  ever  palpitating  with  a  quick 
response  to  every  impression  telling  the  eye  to  look  with 
pleasure  upon  this  object,  as  amusing ;  to  the  ear,  telling  it 
to  drink  in  with  pleasure  such  and  such  a  sound  of  melody  ; 
— and  so  on.  Need  I  tell  you,  my  friends,  what  your  own 
heart  has  so  often  told  you — how  inconstant  we  are ;  how 
the  thing  that  captivates  us  to-day,  we  Avill  look  coldly  upon 
to-morrow,  and  the  next  day,  perhaps  wnth  eyes  of  disgust  1 
Need  I  tell  you  how  fickle  is  that  love,  that  friendship  of  the 
human  heart,  against  which,  and  its  inconstancy,  the  Holy 
Ghost  seems  to  warn  us?  ^'  Pat  not  thy  trust  in  Princes,  nor 
in  the  children  of  men,  in  whom  there  is  no  salvation."      To 


THE  CHURCH  THE  SALVATION  OF  SOCIETY.       119 

gura'd  against  this  inconstancy,  it  is  necessary  to  call  in  divine 
grace  and  help  from  Heaven.  For  it  is  a  question  of  confirm- 
ing the  heart  of  man.  in  tiie  steadiness,  in  the  uncliangeable- 
ness,  and  in  the  purity  of  the  love  that  is  to  last  all  his  life 
long.  Therefore  it  is  that  the  Catliolic  Church  sanctities  the 
solemn  contract  by  which  man  promises  to  his  fellow-creature 
that  he  will  love  lier ;  that  he  will  never  allow  that  love  for 
her  to  grow  cold  in  his  bosom  ;  that  he  will  never  allow  exaw 
a  thought  of  any  other  love  than  hers  to  cross  his  imagination 
or  enter  his  soul,  that  he  will  love  her  in  the  days  of  her  old 
age  as  he  loves  her  to-day  in  the  freshness  of  her  beauty  as 
she  stands  by  his  side  before  the  altar  of  God,  and  puts  her 
virgin  hand  into  his.  And  she  swears  to  him  a  corresponding 
love.  But  ah!  who  can  assure  to  her  that  heart  wtich 
promises  to  be  hers  to-day — who  can  insure  to  her  that 
love,  ever  inconstant  in  its  own  nature,  and  acted  upon  by  a 
thousand  influences, — calculated,  first  to  alienate,  then  to 
destroy  it  ?  How  can  she  have  the  courage  to  believe  that 
the  word  that  passes  from  that  man's  lips,  at  the  altar, 
shall  never  be  regretted — never  be  repealed  ?  I  answer, 
the  Catholic  Church  comes  in  and  calls  down  a  special  sac- 
ramental grace  from  Heaven ;  lets  in  the  very  blood  of  the 
Saviour,  in  its  sacramental  foiTn,  to  touch  these  two  hearts, 
and  by  purifying  them,  to  elevate  their  affection  into  some- 
thing more  than  gross  love  of  sense,  and  to  shed  upon  those 
two  hearts,  thus  united,  the  rays  of  divine  grace,  to  tinge 
their  livos  somewhat  with  the  light  of  that  ineffable  love  that 
binds  the  Lord  to  His  Church.  And  so,  in  that  sacrament 
of  matrimony,  the  Church  provides  a  divine  remedy  for  the 
inconstancy  of  the  heart  of  man  ;  and  she  also  provides  a 
sanctifying  influence  which,  lying  at  the  very  fountain-head, 
and  source,  and  spring  of  our  nature,  sanctifies  the  whole  stream 
of  society  that  flows  from  the  sacramental  and  sanctifying 
love  of  Christian  marriage. 

Do  you  not  know  that  this  society,  in  separating  itself 
from  the  Church,  has  literally  destroyed  itself?  If  Protest- 
antism, or  Unitariauism,  or  any  other  form  of  error,  did 
nothing  else  than  simply  to  remove  from  the  Sacrament  of 
Matrimony  its  sacramental  character — its  sanctifying  grace 
— by  that  very  act,  that  error'  of  religious  unbelief,  it 
destroys  society.  The  man  who  destnjys,  in  the  least  degree, 
the  firmness  of  the  bond  that  can  never  be  broken, — because 


120  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

it  is  honnd  by  tlie  hand  of  God,  and  sealed  M'ith  the  sacra- 
mental seal, — the  man  that  touches  that  ])ondj  the  man  that 
takes  from  that  Sacrament  one  single  iota  of  its  grace,  makes 
himself  thereby  the  enemy  of  society,  and  pollutes  the  very 
fountain-head  from  which  the  stream  of  our  life  comes. 
When  the  prophet  of  old  came  into  the  city  of  Jericho,  they 
showed  him  the  stream  that  ran  by  the  city  walls ;  and 
they  told  him  :  ^'  Here  is  a  stream  of  water :  whoever  drinks 
of  that  water  dies  ;  our  people  are  dying  either  of  thirst  or 
of  the  poisoned  waters."  He  did  not  attempt  to  heal  the 
stream  as  it  flowed  thereby;  but  he  took  to  himself  salt^ 
and  he  blessed  that  salt,  and  he  said  to  the  people — "  Bring 
me  to  the  fountain  out  of  which  this  river  cometh.'^  And 
they  brought  him  up  into  the  mountain;  and  they  showed 
him  the  fountain-head  of  the  stream.  "Here,"  he  said, 
"  here  must  we  heal  it."  He  put  the  blessed  salt  into 
the  fountain,  the  spring  from  which  the  stream  came,  and  he 
said :  "■  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  I  have  healed  these  waters, 
and  there  shall  no  more  be  in  them  death  or  bitterness.*' 
Thus  he  purified  the  fountain-head  of  the  spring  of  the 
waters  of  Jericlio.  Such  is  the  Sacrament  of  Marriage 
to  human  society.  The  future  of  the  world,  the  moral 
future  of  mankind — of  the  rising  generations — depend  upon 
the  purity  and  the  sanctity  of  the  matrimonial  tie.  There 
does  the  Church  of  God  throw,  as  it  were,  her  sacramental 
salt  of  grace  into  the  fountain-head  of  our  nature,  and  so 
sanctifies  the  humanity  that  springs  from  its  source. 

The  next  great  moral  influence  of  society  which  requires 
the  Church's  action,  is  Education.  "The  child,"  as  you 
know,  "  is  father  to  the  man  ; "  and  what  the  child  is  to-day 
the  man  will  be  in  twenty  or  thirty  years'  time.  Now,  the 
young  soul  of  the  child  is  like  the  earth  in  the  Spring  sea- 
son. The  time  of  childhood  is  the  time  of  sowing  and  of 
planting.  Whatever  is  put  into  that  young  heart  in  the 
early  days  of  childhood,  will  bring  up,  in  the  Summer  of 
manhood,  and  in  the  Autumn  of  old  age,  its  crop,  either  of 
good  or  e^dl.  And,  therefore,  it  is  the  rnost  important  time 
of  life.  The  future  of  the  world  depends  upon  the  sanctity 
of  education.  Now,  in  ordjer  that  education  may  be  bad,  it 
is  not  necessary,  my  friends,  to  teach  the  child  any  thing  bad. 
Ill  order  to  make  education  bad,  it  is  quite  enough  to  neglect 
the  element  of  sanctity  and  of  religion.       It  is  quite  enough 


THE  CHURCH  THE  SALVATION  OF  SOCIETY.       VZl 

to  neglect  tlie  relio-ions  portion  of  the  education.  By  that 
very  defect  the  education  becouics  bad.  And  why  ?  Because, 
Buch  is  our  nature,  such  the  infiraiity  of  owx  fallen  state,  such 
is  the  atmosphere  of  the  scenes  in  which  we  live  iu  this 
world,  such  the  power  of  the  infernal  agencies  that  are  busily 
at  work  for  our  destmction,  tliat,  educate  the  child  as  care- 
fully as  you  may,  surround  him  with  the  holiest  influences, 
fill  him  with  the  choicc^st  graces,  you  still  run  great  risks  that, 
some  day  ©r  other,  the  serpent  of  sin  will  gain  an  entrance 
into  that  young  soul,  in  spite  of  you.  How  much  more  if 
that  y()ung  heart  be  not  replenished  with  divine  gi'ace  ! 
How  much  more  if  that  young  soul  be  not  fenced  around 
by  a  thousand  appliances  and  a  thousand  defences  against 
its  enemies  !  And  thus  do  we  see  that  the  principle  of  bad 
education  is  established  the  moment  the  strong  religious 
element  is  removed.  Hence  it  is  that,  out  of  the  sanctity  of 
marriage,  springs  the  sanctity  of  education  in  the  Catliolic 
Church.  And  wdiy  f  Because  the  Church  of  God  proclaims 
that  the  marriage  bond  no  man  can  dissolve ;  that  that  mariiage 
bond, — so  hmg  as  death  does  not  come  in  to  separate  tlu^ 
man  and  wife, — that  that  maniage  bond  is  the  one  contract 
which  no  power  on  this  earth  can  dissolve.  Consecpiently, 
tlie  Catholic  woman,  married  to  the  Catholic  man,  knows 
that  the  moment  their  lips  mutually  pronounce  their  maiTiao-e 
vows,  her  position  is  defined  and  establislied  for  evennon^ : 
that  no  one  can  put  her  dowii  fnmi  the  holy  eminence  of 
wife  or  of  mother,  and  that  the  throne  which  she  occupies  in 
the  household,  she  never  can  live  to  see  occupied  by  another  ; 
that  her  cliildren  are  assured  to  her,  and  that  she  is  left  in  her 
undisputed  empire  and  control  over  them.  She  knows  that 
— no  matter  how  the  word  may  prosper  or  otherwn'se  with  her 
— she  is  sure,  at  least,  of  her  position  as  a  wife,  and  of  her 
claims  to  her  husband's  love,  and  of  the  allegiance  of  his  . 
worship.  She  knows  that  even  though  she  may  have  wedded 
him  in  the  days  of  poverty,  and  that  should  he  lise  to  some 
great  and  successful  position, — even  if  he  became  an  emperor, 
— she  must  rise  with  him,  and  that  he  can  never  discard  her ; 
and,  consequently,  she  feels  that  her  pc^sition  and  her  children 
are  her  ow'n  for  ever.  Now,  the  element  <>f  sanctity  in  the 
family,  even  when  the  husband  is  a  good  man, — even  when 
he  is  a  sacrament-going  man,  as  every  Catholic  man  ought  to 
be, — vet  the  element  of  eanctitv  in  the  familv,  and  for  the 

6'  * 


122  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

family,  lies  ^vith  the  woman.  It  is  the  duty  and  privilege 
of  the  mother.  She  has  the  children  under  her  eye  and 
under  her  care  the  livelong  day.  She  has  the  formation 
of  them, — of  their  character — their  first  sentiments,  thoughts, 
and  works,  either  for  good  or  evil.  The  seed  to  be 
planted, — the  formation  of  the  soul, — is  in  the  mother's 
4iands;  and  therefore  it  is  that  the  character  of  the  child 
mainly  depends  on  the  formation  which  the  mother  gives 
it.  The  father  is  engaged  in  his  office,  in  keeping  his 
business,  or  at  his  work  all  the  day  long.  His  example, 
whether  for  good  or  bad,  is  not  constantly  before  tlie  eyes — 
the  observant  eyes — of  the  child,  as  is  the  example  of  the 
mother.  And  so  it  is,  my  friends,  that  all  depends  upon  the 
mother  j  and  it  is  of  vital  importance  that  that  mother  should 
blend  in  herself  all  that  is  pure,  hol}^,  tender,  and  loving,  and 
that  she  be  assured  of  the  sanctity  of  her  position,  of  which 
the  Church  assures  her  by  the  indissoluble  natm-e  of  the 
marriage  tie. 

Again  the  Church  of  Grod  follows  the  child  into  the  school, 
aud  she  puts  before  the  young  eye,  even  before  reason  has 
opened — she  puts  before  the  young  sense  the  sight  of  things 
that  will  familiarize  the  mind  of  the  chikl  with  Heaven  and 
with  heavenly  thoughts.  She  goes  before  the  world,  antici- 
pates reason,  and  tries  to  get  the  start  of  thai  ''  mystery  of 
iniquity"  which,  sooner  or  later,  lying  in  the  world,  shall  be 
revealed  to  the  eyes  and  the  soul  of  this  young  child.  Hence 
it  is  that,  in  her  system  of  education,  she  endeavors  to  mix  up 
sacramental  graces,  lessons  of  good,  pictures  of  divine  things, 
holy  statues,  little  prayers,  singing  of  hymns, — all  these 
religious  appliances, — and  endeavors  to  mingle  them  all,  con- 
stantly and  largely,  with  every  element  of  human  education, 
that  the  heart  may  be  formed  as  well  as  the  mind,  and  that 
the  will  may  be  strengthened  as  well  as  the  intellect  and  the 
soul  of  man.  If,  then,  the  evil  of  a  bad  education  be  one  of 
the  evils  of  society,  I  hold  that  the  Church,  in  her  scheme 
and  plan  of  edncation,  proves  that  she  is  the  salvation  of 
societ}^  by  touching  that  evil  with  a  healing  hand. 

The  next  great  evil  aftecting  the  morals  of  society,  is  the 
sense  of  iiTesp(jnsibility.  A  man  outside  the  Catholic 
Church  is  never  expected  to  call  himself  to  account  for  his 
actions.  If  he  speaks  evil  words,  if  he  thinks  evil  thoughts, 
if  he  does  wrong  things,  the  most  that  he  aspires  to   is  a 


THE  CHURCH  THE  SALVATION  OF  SOCIETY.       VSi 

momentary  thought  of  God.  Perliaps  he  forms  a  kind  (.f 
resolution  not  to  do  these  things  any  more.  But  there  is  no 
excruciating  self-examination  j  there  is  no  humiliating  con- 
fession ;  there  is  no  care  or  thought  upon  motives  for  sorrow ; 
there  is  no  {)ainstaking  to  acquire  a  finn  resolution ;  there 
are  none  of  tlie  restraints  against  a  return  to  sin  with  which 
the  sacramental  agencies  of  the  Catholic  Church,  especially 
through  the  Sacrament  of  Penance^  have  made  us  all  familiar. 
The  Catholic  man  feels  that  the  eye  of  God  is  upon  him. 
He  is  told  this  every  time  the  Catholic  Church  warns  him  to 
prepare  for  confession.  He  is  told  this  every  time  his  eves, 
wandering  through  the  church,  rest  upon  the  confessional. 
He  is  U>\(\  this  every  time  he  sees  the  priest  standing  there, 
with  his  stole  on,  and  the  penitent  going  in  with  tearful  e\es, 
and  coming  forth  with  eyes  beaming  with  joy  and  witii 
the  delight  of  forgiveness.  He  is  told  this  in'^a  thousand 
ways ;  and  it  is  brought  home  to  him  by  the  precepts  and 
Sacraments  of  the  Chm'ch  at  stated  times  in  the  year.  Tlie 
consequence  is  that  he  is  made  to  believe  that  he  is  responsi- 
ble to  Almighty  God  ;  and  therefore  this  obligation,  creating 
a  sense  of  responsibility,  arouses  and  excites  this  watchful- 
ness of  his  own  conscience.  The  man  who  feels  that  the  eye 
of  God  is  upon  him  will  also  feel  that  the  eye  of  his  own 
conscience  is  upon  him.  For  watchfulness  begets  watchful- 
ness. If  the  master  is  looking  on  while  a  servant  is  doino- 
any  thing,  the  servant  will  endeavor  to  do  it  well,  and  he 
-will  keep  his  eye  upon  the  master  while  the  master  is 
present.  So,  a  soldier,  when  he  is  ordered  to  charge,  turns 
his  look  upon  his  superior  officer,  while  he  dashes  "into  the 
midst  of  the  foe.  And  so  it  is  with  us.  Conscience  is  cre- 
ated ;  conscience  is  fostered  and  cherished  in  the  soul  by  a 
sense  of  responsibility  which  Almighty  God  gives  us  throuo-h 
the  Church  and  through  her  Sacraments.  What  follows 
from  this?  It  follows  that  the  Catholic  man,  although  in 
conscious  freedoTu,  is  conscious  that  he  must  always  exercise 
that  freedom  under  the  eye  of  God  and  under  the  domini<.n 
of  His  law  J  so  that  in  him,  even  although  he  be  a  sinner  for 
a  time,  the  sense  of  freedom  never  degenerates  into  positive 
recklessness  or  license. 

Finally, — in  the  political  \'iew  of  society, — the  dangers  tliat 
threaten  tiie  world  froru  this  aspect,  are,  first  of  all — a]>so- 
lutism  and  injustice,  and  oppression  in  rulers;  and,  secondly. 


1^4  FATIIEK  BURKES  DISCOURSES. 

fi    p})irit    of  rebellion,    even    against    just    and    established 
government,  among  the  governed.      For  the  well-ordering  of 
society  lies  m    this :  That  he    who  governs    respects  those 
whom  he  governs  ;  and  that  those  who  are  governed  by  him 
recognize  in  him  only  the  authority  that  comes  to  him  fi'om 
God.     I  ssij/rom  God.     I  do  not  wish  here,  or  now,  to  enter 
into  the  question  as  to  the  source  of  power,  and  how  far  the 
popular  element  may  or  may  not  be  that  source ;  but  I  do 
Bay  that  where  the  power  exists, — even  where  the  niler  is 
chosen   by   the    people, — that     he     exercises   that    power, 
then,    as   an    official     of    the    Almighty    God,    to    whom 
belongs   the   government  of  the  whole   system  which    He 
has  created.       If   that  ruler    abuses  his  power, — al)uses  it 
excessively; — ^if  he  despises   those   whom  he  governs; — if 
he  has  not  respect  for  their  rights,  their  privileges  and  their 
ctmsciences, — then  the    balance  of    power  is  lost,  and    the 
great  e\'il  of  political  society  is  inaugm'ated.    If,  on  the  other 
liand,  the  people, — fickle  and  inconstant, — do  not  recognize 
any  sacredness  at  all  in  their  ruler ;    if  they  do  not  recog- 
nize the  principle  of  obedience  to  law  as  a  divine  principle,  " 
— as  a  necessary  principle,  without  which  the  world  cannot 
live ;    if  they  tliink  tliat  among  the  rights  of  man — of  indi- 
vidual man — is  the  right  to  rise  in  rebellion  against  authority 
and  law, — the  second  great  evil  of  political  society  is  devel- 
oped, and  the  whole  machinery  of  the  world's  government  is 
broken  to  pieces.     What  is  necessary  to  remedy  this  ?     A 
power — mark  my  words — a  power  recognized  to  be  greater 
than  that  of  the  people  or  than  that  of  the  people's  govern- 
ment.    A  power,  wielded  not  only  over  the  subject,  but  over 
the    mrmarch.     A    power,  appealing    with  equal    force  and 
equal  authority  to  him  who  is  upon  the  throne,  to  him  who 
is  at  the  head  of  armies  and  empires,  and  to  the  meanest  and 
the  poorest  and  the  lowest  of  his  subjects.     What  power  bas 
that   been    in    history  I     Look  l)ack    for  eighteen    hundred 
years.     What  power  is  it  that  has  been  exercised  over  baron 
and  chieftain,  king  and  ruler,  no  matter  how  dark  the  times, — 
no  matter  how  convulsed  society  was,-— no  matter  how  con- 
fused   every    element  of  government  was, — no  matter  how 
rude  and  barbarous  the  manners  of  men, — no  matter  how 
willing  they  were  to  assert  themselves,  in  the  fulness  of  their 
pride  and    savage  power,  in  field  and    in  council  ?     What 
power  was  it  that  was  acknowledged  and  obeyed  by  them, 


THE  CHURCH  THE  SALVATIOX  OE  SOCIETY.       125 

diiriiig  twelve  liuiulred  years,  h^om  tlio  close  of  the  Roinau 
pcrsec'uti.oiis  till  the  outbreak  of  Protestantism  f  AVhat 
power  was  it  that  told  the  monarchs  of  the  middle  a<(es  that, 
it  they  imposed  an  oppressive  or  unjust  tax  upon  the  people, 
they  were  excommunicated"?  What  power  was  it  that  arose 
to  tell  Philip  Auo-ustns  of  France,  in  all  the  lust  of  his 
g'reatness  and  his  undisputed  sway,  that,  if  he  did  not  respect 
the  rights  of  his  one  wife,  and  adhere  to  her  chastely,  he 
would  be  excommunicated  by  the  Oliurch,  and  abandoned 
by  his  peo}d-e  ?  What  power  was  it  that  confronted  the 
voluptuous  tyrant  seated  on  the  Tudoi-'s  throne  in  England, 
and  told  him  that,  unless  he  were  faithful  to  the  poor  perse- 
cuted woman,  Catherine  of  Arrag-on,  his  lawful  wife,  he 
should  be  cut  ofi"  as  a  rotten  branch,  and  cast — by  the 
sentence  of  the  Church — into  hell-tire  1  What  power  was  it 
that  made  the  strongest  and  most  tyrannical  of  these  rude 
mediaeval  chieftains,  kings,  and  emperors,  tremble  before  it  ? 
Ah,  it  was  the  power  of  the  Vatican.  It  was  the  voice  of 
the  Church,  upholding  the  rights  of  the  people  ;  sheltering 
them  with  its  strong  arm,  proclaiming  that  no  injustice 
should  be  done  to  them  ;  that  the  rights  of  the  poorest  man 
in  the  comnmnity  were  as  sacred  as  the  rights  of  him  who 
sat  upon  the  throne ;  and,  tlierefore,  that  she  would  not 
stand  by  and  see  the  people  oppressed.  An  ungrateful 
world  is  this  of  ours  to-day,  that  forgets  that  the  Catholic 
Church  was  the  power  that  inaugurated,  established,  and 
obtained  all  those  civic  and  municipal  rights,  all  those 
rights,  respecting  communities,  which  have  formed  the 
basis  of  what  we  call  our  modern  civilization  !  Ungrate- 
ful age !  that  rellects  not,  or  chooses  to  forget,  that  the 
greatest  freedom  the  people  ever  enjoyed  in  this  world, 
they  enjoyed  so  long  as  they  were  under  the  aegis  of 
the  Church's  protection  j  that  never  were  the  Italians  so  free 
as  they  were  in  the  mediaeval  Republics  of  Genoa,  Pisa, 
Lucca,  and  Florence ;  that  never  were  the  Spaniards  so  free 
as  when  their  Cortes,  as  the  ruling  voice  of  the  nation,  was 
heard  resounding  in  the  ears  of  their  monarchs,  and  respected 
l)y  them  j  that  never  were  the  English  so  free  as  when  a 
Saint  was  their  ruler;  or,  that  when  a  demon  in  mortal  shape 
clutched  the  sceptre,  an  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  with  the 
knights  of  the  realm  closed  around  him,  told  him  they  would 
abandon  him  and  dei)ose  him,  unless  he  gave  to  the  people 


126  FATHER  BVRKES  DISCOURSES. 

tliat  charter  wliicli  is  tlie  foundation  of  the  most  glorions 
constitution  in  the  world.  And  thus,  I  answer,  the  Church 
maintained  the  rights  of  the  people,  whenever  those  rights 
were  unjustly  invaded  by  those  who  were  in  power. 

But,  to  the  people,  in  theii'  turn,  this  Church  has  always 
preached  patience,  docility,  obedience  to  law,  legitimate 
redress,  when  redress  was  required.  She  has  always 
endeavored  to  calm  their  spirits,  and  to  keep  them  back,  even 
under  great  and  sore  oppression,  from  the  remedy  which  the 
world's  Instory  tells  us  has  always  been  worse  than  the 
disease  wliich  it  has  attempted  to  cure — viz.  :  the  remedy  of 
rebellion  and  revolution. 

Such  is  the  history  of  the  Church's  past.  Have  I  not 
said  with  truth,  that  the  Church  is  the  salvation  of  society ; 
that  she  formed  society  ;  that  she  created  what  we  call  the 
society  of  our  day ;  and  that,  if  it  had  not  been  for  her,  a 
large  percentage  of  all  that  forms  the  literature  of  our  time, 
would  not  now  be  in  existence?  The  most  powerful 
restraints,  the  most  purifying  influences  that  have 
o|)erated  upon  society  for  so  many  centuries,  w^ould 
not  have  sent  down  their  blessings  to  us ;  Idessings 
that  liave  been  inherited,  even  by  those  who  under- 
stood them  so  little  that  their  very  first  act,  in  separating 
from  the  Church,  was  to  lay  the  axe  at  the  very  root  of 
society,  by  depriving  the  Sacrament  of  Matrimony  of  its 
sacramental  and  indispensably  necessary  force.  In  like 
manner,  have  I  not  proved  that,  if  there  be  a  vestige  of  free- 
dom, with  the  proper  assertion  of  right,  in  the  world  to-da}^, 
it  can  be  traced  distinctly  to  the  generating  and  forming 
action  of  the  Catholic  Church  during  those  ages  of  faith 
when  the  world  permitted  itself  to  be  moulded  and  fashioned 
by  her  hands?  And,  as  she  was  in  the  past,  so  must  she  be 
in  the  future.  Shut  vour  eyes  to  her  truths  :  every  principle 
of  human  science  will  feel  the  shock ;  and  the  science  of 
sciences  will  feel  it  first, — the  science  of  the  knowledge  of 
God,  and  of  the  things  which  He  has  given  us.  What  is  the 
truth  '?  Is  it  not  a  mere  matter  of  fact,  known  by  personal 
observation  to  many  among  us,  that  the  Protestant  idea  of 
sin  involves  infidelity, — that  is  to  say,  a  denial  of  the  divinity 
of  Christ,  of  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  and  of  the 
existence  of  God?  What  is  the  Protestant  idea  of  the 
sinner?     We  have  it,  for  instance,  in  iheir  own  description 


THE  CHURCH  THE  SALVATION  OF  SOCIETY.       127 

of  the  Elder's  death-bed.  His  son  was  a  sinner.  He  comes 
to  the  fatlier^s  bedside.  He  is  broken  with  grief,  seeing  that 
his  father  is  dving  before  his  eyes.  The  father  seizes  the 
o]iportunity  to  tell  the  erring  son  :  "  RememV>er  that  Christ 
died  for  our  sins,  and  that  Christ  was  the  son  of  God."  He 
begins  tben  to  teach  what  a  Catholic  would  consider  the  very 
first  elements  of  the  catechism.  But  to  him  they  were  the 
conclusions  of  a  long  life  of  study ;  and  he  has  aiTived,  now, 
at  the  end  of  his  days,  at  the  very  point  at  wliich  the  little 
Catholic  child  starts  when  he  is  seven  years  of  age.  Now, 
in  the  Catholic  Church,  these  things, — which  are  the  result  of 
careful  inquiry,  hard  study,  the  conclusions  of  years,  perhaps. 
— lieing  admitted  as  first  princi})les,  the  time  which  is  lost 
by  the  Protestant  in  arriving  at  these  principles,  is  employed 
by  the  Catholic  in  applying  them  to  the  conduct  and  the 
actions  of  his  daily  life, — in  avoiding  this  danger  or  that, 
repenting  of  this  sin  or  that,  praying  against  this  evil  or 
that, — and  so  on.  Shut  your  eyes  to  the  truths  of  Catholic 
teaching,  and  the  divine  Scriptures  themselves,  on  which  you 
fancy,  perhaps,  that  you  are  building  up  your  religion,  are 
shaken  from  their  pedestal  of  a  sure  definition,  and  nothing 
remains  but  her  reassuring  power — even  to  the  inspiration  of 
(iod's  written  word.  Is  not  this  true?  Where,  during  the 
fifteen  hundred  years  that  preceded  Protestantism, — where 
do  we  read  of  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures  being  called 
in  question  ?  Where  do  we  read  of  any  theologian  omitting 
this  phrase,  leaving  out  that  sentence,  because  it  did  not 
tally  with  his  particular  views  1  He  knew  that  he  might  as 
well  seek  to  tie  up  the  hands  of  God  as  to  change  one  iota  or 
syllable  of  God's  revealed  truth.  But  what  do  we  see  during 
the  last  three  hundred  years  ?  Luther  began  by  rejecting  the 
Epistle  of  St.  James,  calling  it  ^^  an  epistle  of  straw,''  because 
tliere  were  certain  doctrines  there  that  did  not  suit  him. 
From  his  time,  every  Protestant  theologian  has  fouud  fault 
with  this  passage  or  that  of  Scripture,  as  if  it  was  a  thiug 
that  could  be  changed  and  turned  and  forced  and  shaped  to 
answer  this  purpose  or  that ; — as  if  the  word  of  God  could  be 
made  to  veer  about,  north,  east,  south,  and  west — according 
to  human  wishes; — until  at  length,  in  our  own  day,  they 
have  undertaken  a  new  version  of  the  Scriptures  altogether. 
And  this  is  quietly  going  on  in  one  great  section  of  the 
Church   of  England ;    while   another   great    section   of   the 


128  FATHER  BURKES  DISCOURSES. 

Clmrcli  of  England  dispntes  its  antliority  altogetlier,  and 
tells  you  that  the  doctrinal  part  of  it  is  only  a  rule  to  guide, 
and  that  the  historical  part  of  it  is  nothing  more  than  a 
myth,  like  the  history  of  the  ancient  Paganism  of  Greece  and 
of  Rome!  They  discard  the  Church's  acticm  upon  the 
morality  of  society;  tell  her  that  they  do  not  believe  her 
when  she  says :  ''  Accursed  is  the  man  or  woman  that  puts 
a  divorce  into  his  or  her  partners  hand."  They  tell  her  that 
they  do  not  believe  her  when  she  says :  "  No  matter  what 
the' conduct  of  either  party  is,  I  cannot  break  the  bond  that 
God  has  made ; — no  matter  what  may  be  the  difference  of 
disposition ; — no  matter  what  the  weariness  that  springs  from 
the  union,  I  cannot  dissolve  it,  I  cannot  alter  it."  If  you 
dissolve  it,  I  ask  you  in  all  earnestness  to  what  you  reduce 
yourselves  ?  To  what  does  the  married  woman  reduce  her- 
self? She  becomes  (I  blush  to  say  it,)  a  creature  living 
mider  the  sufferance  and  the  caprices  of  her  husband.  You 
know  how  easy  it  is  to  trump  up  an  accusation !  You  have 
but  to  defame  that  w^hich  is  so  delicate  and  so  tender  as  a 
w^oman's  name  ; — a  gentle  and  a  tender  and  a  pure  woman's 
good  name  is  tainted  and  destroyed  by  a  breath.  No  matter 
how  unfounded  the  calumny  or  the  slander,  how  easy  it  is 
first  to  defame  and  then  to  destroy  it !  At  the  time 
when  the  Protestant  Church  was  called  upon  by  the 
people  in  England  to  admit  the  law^fulness  of  divorce,  the 
Catholic  Church  raised  up  her  voice  in  defence  of  truth, 
and  wai-ned  England  that  she  was  going  into "  a  deeper 
abyss, — warned  the  people  that  they  were  going  to  de- 
stroy whatever  sanctity  of  society  remained  among  them, 
— \vamed  them  that  there  was  an  anathema  upon  the  measure 
— upon  those  who  proposed  it — upon  those  who  aided  it.  I 
remember  at  that  time  a  poor  woman  in  Ireland, — indeed  she 
was  almost  a  beggar  in  her  poverty, — asking  of  me  ]  "  Is  it 
true,  your  Reverence,  they  are  going  to  make  a  law  in 
England  to  let  the  husband  and  wife  separate  from  one 
an(>ther  and  go  and  many  other  people  ?  "  "  Yes, "  I  said. 
"Well,  I  hope,"  she  said,  "we  will  not  be  included  in 
that  law?"  "Oh,  no;  not  at  all,"  I  said.  "You  are 
all  right."  "Glory 'be  to  God!"  she  said,  "I  never 
knew  ^before  the  happiness  of  being  a  Catholic.  I  would 
rather  be  manied  to  my  Jimmy,  and  be  sure  of  him,  than 
to  the  fii'st  nobleman   in  England:    for  he  might  come  to 


THE  CHURCH  THE  SALVATION  OF  SOCIETY.       1L>9 

nie  to-morrow  and  tell  me  to  go  out  and  take  the  cliildreii 
with  me!" 

Such  is  the  Clnirch's  action  on  the  morale  of  society. 
Tell  her  to  shut  up  her  confessionals  ;  tell  her  that  her  priests, 
sitting-  in  those  tribunals,  are  blasphemous  usuri)ers  of  a 
}»o\ver  that  God  has  never  given  to  man.  What  follows  from 
tliisf  O  my  friends,  do  you  tliink  that  you,  or  that  any  of 
yiMi  would  be  better  men  if  you  were  absolved  to-morrow 
from  all  obligation  of  ever  going  to  confessicm  again  I  Do 
you  think  you  would  draw  nearer  to  God?  Would  you  look 
more  sharply  after  yourselves  ?  Do  you  not  think  that  even 
those  very  human  agencies — the  humiliation,  tlie  painstaking 
of  preparation,  the  violent  effort  to  get  out  whatever  we  must 
confess, — do  vou  not  think  all  these  thing-s  are  a  "-reat  re- 
straint  upon  a  man,  and  that  they  help  to  keep  him  pure,  in- 
dependent altogether  of  the  higher  argument  of  an  offended 
God, — of  the  crucified  Lord  bleeding  again  at  the  sight  of 
our  sins  f  Most  assuredly  they  are.  Most  assuredly  that 
man  will  endeavor  to  serve  God  with  greater  purity,  with, 
greater  carefulness, — will  endeavor  to  remember  the  precept 
of  the  Saviour,  ''You  must  watch  and  })ray,  that  you  enter 
not  into  temptation," — when  he  is  called  from  time  to  time  to 
sweep  the  chambers  of  his  own  soul,  to  wash  and  purify 
every  corner  of  his  own  heart,  to  analyze  his  motives,  call 
himself  to  account,  even  for  his  thoughts  and  words  ; — 
examine  his  relations  in  regard  to  honesty,  in  regard  to  charity 
with  his  neighbor ; — examine  himself  how  he  fulfils  his 
duties  as  a  father,  or  as  a  husband,  as  the  case  may  be  ; — 
that  the  man,  who  is  obliged  to  do  this,  is  more  likely  to 
sei-ve  God  in  purity  and.  watchfulness,  than  the  man  who 
never,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  is  asked  even  to  consider 
the  necessity  of  taking  a  few  minutes'  thought  and  asking 
himself,  "  How  do  I  stand  with  God  ?  "  Remove  this  action 
of  the  Church  upon  the  good  conduct  of  society;  and  then 
you  will  have,  indeed,  the  work  which  was  accomplished, 
and  which  is  reaping  its  fulfilment  to-day, — the  work  of  the 
so-called  great  lleformer,  Martin  Luther,  who  has  brought  it 
to  this  pass,  that  the  world  itself  is  groaning  under  the 
weight  of  its  own  iniquities  ;  and  society  rises  up  and  ex- 
claims that  its  very  heart  within  it  is  rotted  by  social  evil. 

Disturb  the  action  of  the  Church  upon  political  society, 
and  what  guarantee  have  you  for  the  future  "l     You  may  see 


130  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

from  the  past  what  is  to  be  in  tlie  future ;  for,  when  Luther 
broached  his  so-called  ^-Reformation,"  the  principle  upon 
which  he  went  was  that  the  Catholic  Church  had  no  busi- 
ness to  be  an  universally  Catholic  body ;  that  she  should 
break  herself  up  into  national  Churches, — the  Church  of 
Germany,  the  Church  of  England,  the  Church  of  France,  the 
Church  of  America,  and  so  on.  And,  in  fact,  Protestantism, 
to  this  day,  in  England,  is  called  the  Church  of  England. — 
The  necessary  consequence  that  immediately  foHowed  was  that 
the  King,  if  it  was  a  Kingdom,  or  the  President,  if  it  was  a 
Republic, — no  matter  wholiemay  be, — became  the  liead  of  the 
Church — if  it  was  a  national  Church — as  well  as  the  head  of 
the  nation.  The  two  powers  were  concentrated  in  hiui — one 
as  Governor — head  of  the  State  ;  the  other  as  the  head  of  the 
national  Church.  He  became  king  over  the  consciences  of 
the  people,  as  well  as  ruler  of  their  external  actions.  He 
was  to  make  laws  for  the  soul  as  well  as  for  the  body. 
He  was  to  tell  them  what  they  were  to  believe  and  how 
they  were  to  pray,  as  well  as  to  tell  them  their  duties  as 
citizens.  He  was  to  lead  them  to  Heaven  !  The  ri'ian 
who  led  his  armies  in  the  battle-field  was  then  to  per- 
suade his  people  that  the  way  to  Heaven  lay  through  rapine 
and  through  blood!  But  so' it  was.  And,  strange  to  say,  in 
every  nation  in  Europe  that  accepted  Protestantism,  the 
monarch  became  a  tyrant  at  once.  The  greatest  tyran-t  that 
ever  governed  England  was  the  man  who  introduced  Protest- 
antism. So  long  as  Henry  the  Eighth  was  a  Catholic, — 
although  he  was  a  man  of  terrible  passions, — still,  the 
Church,  reminding  him  of  his  soul,  bringing  him  occasionally 
to  the  Confessional,  trying  to  shake  him  out  of  his  iniqui- 
ties,— had  some  control  over  him;  and  he  conquered  his 
passions,  and  kept  himself  honorable  and  pure.  The  moment 
that  this  man  cast  ofi'his  allegiance  to  the  Church, — the  very 
day  he  proclaimed  that  he  was  emancipated  from  the  Pope, 
and  did  not  believe  in  the  Pope  or  acknowledge  him  any 
more, — that  very  day  he  turns  to  Anne  Boleyn,  takes  and 
proclaims  her  his  wife, — Catherine,  his  rightful  wife,  still 
living;  and,  in  a  few  days,  when  his  heart  grew  tired  of 
Anne,  and  his  eyes  were  attracted  by  some  other  beauty,  he 
sent  Anne  to  the  block,  and  had  her  head  cut  off; — and  he 
took  another  lady  in  her  place :  and,  in  a  short  time,  he  cut 
off  her  head,  also".     And  so,  Gustavus  Vasa,  of  Sweden,  when 


THE  CHURCR  TUE  SALVATLUN  OF  SOCIETY.       131 

he  became  a  Protestant,  at  once  assumed  and  became  the 
bead  of  an  al)Solute  monarchy.  The  very  kings  of  the 
Catholic  countries  imitated  their  Protestant  confreres  in  this 
respect ;  for  we  find  the  Catholic  monarchs  of  Spain  cutting 
off  the  ancient  privileges  of  the  people  in  the  Cortes,  say- 
ing :  — "  I  am  the  State  j  and  every  man  must  obey  ! "  It  is 
quite  natural.  The  more  power  you  give  into  a  man's  hand, 
the  more  absolute  he  becomes.  The  more  you  concentrate 
in  him  the  spiritual  as  well  as  the  temporal  power,  the  more 
audaciously  will  he  exercise  both  tenip(n-al  and  spiritual 
power,  and  the  more  likely  is  it  that  you  are  building  up  in 
that  man  a  tyrant — and  a  merciless  tyrant — to  0})j)ress  you. 
From  the  day  that  society  emancipated  itself,  by  Protestant- 
ism, from  the  action  of  the  Church,  revolution,  rebellion, 
uj)rising  against  authority,  became  the  order  of  the  day ; 
until  at  length  society  is  honeycombed  with  secret  associa- 
ti(ms  which  swear  eternal  enmity,  not  only  to  the  altar,  but 
to  the  throne. 

And  so,  my  dear  friends,  we  see  that  we  cannot  move 
without  the  Church  of  God;  that  nations  may  go  on  for  a 
time,  and  may  be  upheld  by  material  prosperity  ;  but  with- 
out a  surer  basis  they  will  certainly  be  overthrown.  The 
moments  are  coming,  and  coming  rapidly,  when  all  the 
society  of  this  world,  that  wishes  to  be  saved,  will  have  to 
cry  out  with  a  mighty  voice  to  the  Catholic  Church.  Per- 
secuted, despised,  to-day,  sbe  will  yet  come, — with  her  light 
of  truth — with  her  sanctifying  influences, — with  her  glorious 
dominion  over  king  and  subject, — to  save  them  from  the  ruin 
which  they  have  brought  upon  their  own  heads.  Then  -svill 
be  the  day  of  grace  for  man, — the  day  of  the  world's  neces- 
sity. And  when  that  day  comes, — and  I  behold  it  now  in 
my  mental  vision, — this  uprising  of  the  whole  world  in  the 
hands  of  the  Church, — it  will  bring  peace,  security,  and  joy 
to  society.  I  see  thee,  0  glorious  spo\ise  of  Christ ! — 0 
Mother  Church,  I  see  thee  seated  once  more,  in  the  councils 
of  the  nations,  guiding  them  with  a  divinely-infused  light 
— animating  them  with  thy  spii'it  of  justice!  1  see,  0  mother, 
as,  of  old,  I  saw  a  glorious  city  rise  out  of  the  ruins 
of  the  Goth  and  Visigoth  and  Vandal:  so  out  of  the 
men  of  this  day, — rela[)sing  into  chaos  through  neglect  of 
thee, — do  I  behold  thee  forming  the  glorious  city  that  shall 
be;  a  society  in  which  men  shall  be  loyal  and  brave,  truth- 


132  FATHEii  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

fill,  pure,  and  holy  ;  a  city  in  which  the  people  shall  grow  up 
formed  by  thee  for  God ;  a  city  in  which  all  men,  governors 
and  governed,  shall  admit  the  supremacy  of  law,  the  sanctity 
of  principle,  the  omnipotence  of  justice !  And,  0  Mother, 
in  the  day  when  that  retribution  comes — in  that  day  of  the 
world's  necessity — the  triple  crown  shall  shine  again  upon 
the  brows  of  tby  chief, — Peter's  successor  and  the  Vicar  of 
Christ ;  upon  that  honored  brow  shall  shine  forth  again  the 
triple  crown, — the  most  ancient  and  the  holiest  in  the  world ; 
the  Prince  of  Peace  shall  extend  his  sceptre  over  the  nations  j 
and  every  man  shall  rejoice  in  a  new  life ! 


THE  RESURRECTION. 

[J  sermon  preached  hy  the  Very  Rev.  T.  N.  BurTce,  O.P.,  in   the  church 
of  St.    Vincent  Ferrer,  New  York,  on  Easter  Sunday,  April  1 ,  1872.  ] 

'' And  when  the  Sabbath  was  past,  Mary  Magdalen,  and  Marj,  the 
mother  of  James  and  Salome,  bought  sweet  spices,  that,  coming,  they 
might  anoint  Jesus.  And  vei^  early  in  the  morning,  the  first  day  of 
the  week,  they  came  to  the  sepulchre,  the  sun  being  now  risen.  And 
they  said  one  to  another,  Who  shall  roll  us  hack  the  stone  from  the 
door  of  the  sepulchre?  And,  looking,  they  saw  the  stone  rolled  back; 
for  it  was  very  great.  And  entering  into  the  sepulchre,  they  saw  a 
young  man  sitting  on  the  right  side,  clothed  with  a  white  robe.  And 
tliey  were  astonished.  And  he  said  to  them  :  Be  not  aiirighted.  You 
seek  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  who  was  crucified.  He  is  risen ;  He  is  not 
here.  Behold  the  place  where  they  laid  Him.  But,  go;  tell  His  dis- 
ciples and  Peter,  that  He  goeth  before  you  into  Galilee.  There  you 
shall  see  Him,  as  He  told  you." 

Dearly  Beloved  Brethren:  We  are  told,  in  the 
history  of  the  Passion  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which  we 
have  been  considering  during  the  past  few  days,  that,  after 
our  Saviour  had  yiehled  up  His  spirit  upon  the  cross,  Joseph 
of  Arimathea  went  to  PiLate  and  demanded  the  body  of  the 
Lord.  Pilate  was  sui-prised  to  hear  that  our  Divine  Lord 
was  already  dead.  And  yet,  if  he  had  only  consulted  his 
own  memory,  and  remembered  how  the  life  was  almost 
scourged  out  of  the  Saviour  by  the  hands  of  the  soldiers,  it 
would  not  have  seemed  to  him  so  wonderful  that  the  three 
hoins  of  agony  should  have  closed  that  life.  He  sent  to  inquire 
if  He  was  already  dead ;  and  gave  orders  that,  in  case  He 
was  dead,  Joseph  of  Arimathea  and  Nicodemus  were  to 
take  possession  of  His  body.  They  came,  sorrowing,  and 
again  climbed  the  Hill  of  Calvary ;  and,  lest  there  might 
be  any  doubt  that  the  Master  was  dead,  the  soldier 
drove  his  lance  once  through  the  heart  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  Then  the  body  was  taken  down  from  the 
crojpjs.  They  took  out  the  nails,  gently  and  tenderly; 
and  they  handed  them  down,  and  they  were  put  into 
the  hands  of  the  Virgin  Mother.  They  took  the  body 
reverently  from  its  high  gibbet,  and  laid  the  thorn-crowned 


134  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

head  upon  the  bosom  of  the  Virgin,  who  waited  to  receive  it. 
With  her  own  hands  she  removed  these  thorns  from  His 
brow ;  and  the  fountain  of  tears,  that  had  been  dried  up  be- 
cause of  the  greatness  of  her  sorrow,  flows  now,  and  rains 
the  Virgin's  tears  upon  the  stained  and  disfigured  face  of 
her  child.  Then  they  brought  Him  to  a  garden  in  the 
neiii'hborliood ;  and  there  tliey  laid  Him  in  the  tomb.  It 
was^anotlier  man's  grave  j  and  He,  the  Lord,  had  no  right 
to  it.  But  He  died  so  poor,  that,  even  in  death.  He  had 
no  place  whereon  to  lay  His  head,  until  charity  opened 
another  man's  tomb  for  Him.  There  they  laid  Him  down ; 
covered  with  blood  and  with  wounds — all  disfigured  and 
deformed,  they  laid  Him  down,  like  the  patriarch  of  old, 
with  a  stone  for  His  pillow ;  and  upon  that  stone  they  laid 
the  wounded  and  the  blessed  head  of  the  Lord.  They  closed 
the  sepulchre.  Mary,  the  mother,  gathered  up  the  thorns,  the 
nails,  tlie  instruments  with  which  her  child  was  so  cruelly 
maimed  and  put  to  death;  and  with  them  pressed  to  her 
heart,  and  leaning  upon  her  newly-found  son,  John,  she 
returned  to  her  sad  home  in  Jerusalem;  and  all,  having 
adored,  silently  dispersed;  fur  the  evening  was  coming  that 
brought  the  Sabbath.  One  only  remained.  The  heart- 
broken Magdalen  lay  down  outside  the  tomb,  and  laid  her 
head  upon  the  stone  which  they  had  rolled  against  the  Mas- 
ter's grave.  There,  she  knew.  He  lay ;  and  the  instinct  of 
her  love,  and  of  her  sorrow,  was  so  strt)ng  that  she  could 
not  20  away  from  the  tomb  of  her  Lord,  but  remained  there, 
weeping  and  alone.  Whilst  she  wept,  evening  deepened  into 
nio-ht;  and  alone,  the  heart-broken  lover  of  Jesus  Christ 
saVv  that  she  must  rise  and  depart.  She  rose.  She  kissed, 
again  and  again,  that  great  stone  that  enclosed  her  Divine 
Saviour;  and,  turning  to  the  city,  she  heard  the  heavy, 
measured  tread  of  the  soldiers,  who  came  with  the  night  to 
guard  the  tomb.  They  closed  around  the  tomb.  With  nide- 
ness  and  with  violence  they  drove  the  woman  away — wonder- 
ing at  her  tears,  and  the  evidence  of  her  broken  heart.  And 
then,  piling  their  arms  and  their  spears,  they  settled  down  to  the 
nio-ht- watch,  cautioned  not  to  sleep — cautioned  to  take  care  not 
to  let  a  human  being  come  near  that  grave  until  the  morning- 
light.  Excited  by  their  own  superstitious  fears  and  emotions 
(for  it  was,  indeed,  a  strange  office  for  these  warriors  to  be  set 
on  guard  over  a  dead  man),  agitated  by  the  strangeness  of  their 


THE  BESUL'RECTIOK  135 

pcsition,  excited  by  their  fears,  tliey  slept  not,  but,  waiting 
the  night,  watchfully,  diligently,  and  with  vigilance,  they 
guard  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left ;  scarcely  knowing 
who  was  to  come ;  fearing  with  an  undefined  fear;  thinking 
that,  perhaps,  it  was  to  be  a  phantom,  a  spirit,  an  evil  thing 
of  the  night  coming  upon  them ;  and  ever  ready  to  grasp 
their  arms,  and  put  themselves  on  their  defence. 

The  night  fell,  deep  and  heavy,  over  the  tomb  of  Jesus 
Christ.  The  whole  of  that  night,  and  of  the  following  day, 
they  kept  their  watch.  Mary,  the  mother,  was  in  Jerusalem. 
Kneeling  before  these  instruments  of  the  passion,  she  spent 
the  whole  of  that  night,  and  the  whole  of  the  following  Sab- 
bath-day, weeping  over  those  thorns  and  over  those  nails ; 
contemplating  them,  examining  them,  and  seeing,  from  the 
evidence  of  the  blood  that  was  upon  them,  how  deeply  they 
had  been  struck  into  the  brow,  and  into  the  hands  and  feet 
of  Jesus,  her  divine  child ;  her  heart  breaking  within  her,  as 
every  glance  at  these  terrible  instruments  of  the  Passion 
brought  up  all  the  horrors  which  siie  had  witnessed  on  tliat 
morning  of  Friday,  on  the  Mount  of  Calvary.  The  women 
kept  watch  and  ward  round  her ;  and  so  terrible  was  the 
raothei-^s  grief,  that  even  the  Magdalen  was  silenced  and 
hushed,  and  dared  not  obtrude  one  word  of  consolation  upon 
tbe  Virgin's  ear. 

The  Sabbath  passed  away.  Dull  and  heavy  the  black 
cloud  that  had  settled  over  Calvary  and  over  Jerusalem,  was 
lifted  up.  Men  walked  about  with  fear  and  with  trembling. 
The  sun  seemed  to  have  scarcely  lisen  that  Sabbath  morning. 
The  dead  who  started  from  their  graves  the  moment  Jesus 
gave  his  last  cry  on  the  cross,  flitted  in  the  darkening  niglit 
to  and  fro  in  the  silent  streets  of  Jerasalem.  Men  beheld  the 
awful  vision  of  these  skeleton  bodies  that  rose  from  the 
grave.  A  fire,  as  of  vengeance  and  of  fury,  seemed  to  glare 
in  the  empty  sockets  in  their  heads.  They  showed  their 
white  teeth,  gnashing,  as  it  would  seem,  over  the  crime  that 
the  people  had  C(mimitted.  They  flitted  to  and  fro.  All 
Jerusalem  was  filled  with  fear  and  terror.  No  man  sjioke 
above  lis  breath,  and  all  was  silent  during  that  long  Sabbath 
day,  that  brought  no  joy,  because  the  people  had  called  down 
the  blood  of  the  Saviour  upon  their  heads. 

The  Sabbath  day  and  evening  had  closed  ;  and  again 
night  was  recumbent  upon  the  earth.     The  guard  is  relieved. 


136  FATHER  BUUKE'S  DFSCOUIiSES. 

Fresh  soldiers  are  pnt  at  the  doors.  They  are  again  cau- 
tioned that  this  is  the  important  night  when  they  nnist  "watch 
with  redoubled  vigilance,  because  this  night  will  seal  the 
Redeemei-'s  fate.  He  said  :  ''  I  will  rise  again  in  three  days;" 
and,  if  the  morning  sun  of  the  first  day  of  the  week — the 
Sunday — rose  upon  the  undisturbed  grave  of  the  dead  man, 
then  ail  that  He  had  preached  was  a  lie,  and  all  the  wonders 
that  He  wrought  were  a  deception  upon  the  people.  There- 
fore the  guards  were  trebly  cautioned  to  keep  watch.  Then, 
filled  with  fear  and  with  an  undefined  alann,  they  close 
around  the  sepulchre,  resolved  that  so  long  as  hand  of  theirs 
can  wield  a  spear,  no  human  being  shall  approach  that 
grave. 

The  Magdalen  lingered  round,  fascinated  by  the  knowledge 
that  her  Redeemer  and  her  Lord  was  there  in  that  tomb  which 
she  was  not  allowed  to  approach.  And  the  guards  watched 
patientl}^,  vigilantly,  with  sleepless  eyes ;  and  the  night 
came  down,  and  all  the  city  was  silent  and  darkened.  Hour 
followed  hour.  Slowly  and  silently  time  rolls  away.  The 
night  was  deepening  to  its  deepest  gloom.  The  midnight 
hour  approaclied.  The  moment  comes  when  the  third  day 
in  the  tomb  is  accomplished.  The  moment  comes  when  the 
Sabbath  was  over — the  Sabbath  of  which  it  was  written,  that 
"  the  Lord  rested  on  the  seventh  day  from  all  his  works." 
That  Sabbath  had  Jesus  Christ  made  in  that  drear}^,  silent 
tomb.  Wounds  and  blood  were  upon  Him.  The  weakness 
of  death  had  fastened  upon  Him.  Those  lifeless  limbs  can- 
not move.  The  sightless  eyes  cannot  open  to  behold  the 
light  of  day.  Death,  indeed,  seems  to  have  rioted  in  its 
triumph  over  the  Eternal  Lord  of  life,  and  hell  appears 
victorious  in  the  destruction  of  the  victim.  The  midnight 
hour  approaches.'  The  guards  hear  the  rustling  of  the  com- 
ing storm.  They  see  the  trees  bow  their  heads  in  that 
garden,  and  wave  to  and  fro,  as  by  a  viol^^t  trembling. 
They  see  them  bending  as  if  a  storai  was  sweeping  over  them. 
They  look.  What  is  this  orient  light  that  blushes  upon  the 
horizon  ?  What  is  this  light  which  bursts  upon  them,  bright, 
bright  as  the  sun  of  heaven,  bright  as  ten  thousand  suns  ? 
And  while  the  light  flashes  upon  them,  and,  dazzled,  they 
close  their  eyes,  they  hear  a  riot  of  voices :  "  Gloria  in  excel- 
sis  !  Allefnia  to  the  risen  Saviour  ! "  What  is  this  that 
they  behold  ?      The  great  stone  comes  rolling  back  from  the 


THE  llESURRECTIOK.  137 

montli  of  the  monmiient  into  the  midst  of  them  !  Save  your- 
selves, 0  men  !  Save  yourselves,  or  it  will  crush  you  !  The 
men  are  frightened  and  alarmed.  Is  it  the  power  of  Heaven  ? 
Or  is  it  a  force  from  hell  'I  Presently,  forth  from  that  tomb 
bursts  the  glorified  and  risen  Saviour.  Their  eyes  are 
dazzled  with  the  spectacle  of  the  Man  that  lay  in  that  cold, 
dark,  silent  grave.  A  voice  was  heard  :  ''  Arise,  for  I  am 
come  for  thee  !  "  And  the  glorified  soul  of  the  Saviour,  en- 
tering, that  moment,  into  His  body,  bursts  triumphant  from 
the  grave  !  Death  and  hell  fly  from  before  His  face.  Fly, 
for  a  power  is  here  that  you  cannot  command !  Fly,  you 
demons,  who  rejoiced  in  your  triumph,  for  death  and  hell 
are  conquered.  Arise,  glorious  sun,  from  the  tomb  !  Oh, 
what  do  I  behold  ?  Where,  O  Saviour,  is  the  sign  of  Thy 
agony  I  Where  is  the  disfigurement  of  blood  ?  Where  is 
the  sign  of  the  executioners  hand  upon  Thee  ?  It  is  gone — 
gone  !  No  longer  the  bloodstained  thorn  defiles  Thy  brows  ! 
No  longer  Thy  sacred  flesh  hangs  torn  from  the  bones  ! 
No !  But  now,  triimiphant,  glorified,  incorruptible,  impassi- 
ble. He  has  resumed  the  grandeur  and  the  glory  which  He 
put  away  frc»m  Him  on  the  day  of  His  Incarnation ;  and  He 
rises  from  the  tomb,  the  conqueror  of  death  and  hell,  the 
God  and  Redeemer  of  the  world ! 

Behold,  my  brethren,  how  sorrow  is  changed  into  joy  ! 
Bursting  forth  in  the  light  of  His  divinity,  He  went  His 
way — the  way  of  His  eternity.  The  mountains,  the  hills  of 
Judea — of  Jerusalem — bowed  down  before  Him.  The  moun- 
tains moved  and  rocked  on  their  bases  before  the  assertion 
of  Thy  sovereignty,  0  God !  He  went  His  way,  and  left 
behind  Him  an  empty  grave,  and  the  clothing  in  which  His 
disfigured  body  had  been  wrapped  up.  An  empty  grave ! 
But  all  the  angels  in  Heaven  were  looking  on  at  that 
moment.  At  that  moment,  when  the  form  of  the  glorified 
Saviour  burst  from  the  grave,  all  the  angels  of  Heaven  put 
forth  alleluias  of  joy  and  of  praise.  The  heart  of  the  Father 
in  Heaven  exulted.  Rising  upon  His  eternal  throne,  He 
sent  forth  a  cry  of  joy  over  the  glory  of  His  Son.  All  the 
angels  in  Heaven  exulted  ;  and,  triumphing,  they  came  down 
to  earth,  and  gazed  upon  the  sacred  spot  wherein  their  Master 
and  their  God  had  lain. 

The  morning  came,  and  the  dark  clouds  had  disappeared. 
The  very  brows  of  Olivet  seemed  to  shine  with  a  solemn 


138  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

gladness,  and  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  seemed  to  lift  their 
heads  with  a  new  instinct  of  life — almost  of  love  and  joy. 
Calvary  itself  seemed  to  rejoice.  The  morning  rose,  and  the 
sun  gladly  came  up  from  his  home  in  the  east,  and  his  first 
rays  fell  upon  the  empty  grave.  And  behold  the  Magdalen, 
and  the  other  pious  followers  of  our  Lord,  coming  with  oint- 
ment and  sweet  spices  to  anoint  Him.  They  came ;  and 
questioning — as  we  have  seen — questioning  each  other.  How 
could  Mary,  with  nothing  but  her  woman's  strength,  how 
could  Mary  move  that  stone  1  But  see  j  it  is  moved.  And 
beneath  they  behold  an  angel  of  God.  His  light  fills  the 
tomb.  There  is  no  darkness  there,  no  sign  of  sadness,  no 
sign  of  death.  Robed  in  transparent  white — even  as  the 
garments  of  our  Lord  shone  upon  Tabor — so  did  the  Angel 
shine  as  he  kept  guard  over  the  death-bed  of  his  Lord  and 
Master.  Then,  speaking  to  the  woman,  he  says :  "  Woman, 
whom  seekest  thou  ?  "  ''  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  who  was  cruci- 
fied." "Why  seekest  thou  the  living  among  the  dead? 
He  is  not  here.  He  is  risen  ! "  And  then  their  hearts  were 
filled  with  a  mighty  joy ;  for  the  Master  is  risen  ;  while  the 
soldiers,  frightened  and  crestfallen,  went  into  Jerusalem, 
proclaiming  the  ajipearance  to  the  Pharisees  and  to  the 
])eople,  and  that  He  whom  they  were  set  to  guard  was  the 
Lord  of  light  and  life,  and  the  Son  of  God. 

The  eyes  that  were  oppressed  with  the  weariness  of  death 
are  now  lifted  up,  shining  in  the  glory  of  His  resurrection. 
The  hands  that  were  nailed  helplessly  to  the  cross,  wield 
again  the  omnipotence  of  God.  The  heart  that  was  broken 
and  oppressed,  now  enters  into  the  mighty  ocean  of  the  ages 
of  His  divinity,  undisturbed,  unfettered,  unencumbered  by 
any  sorrow.  "  Christ,  risen  from  the  dead,  dies  no  more. 
Death  has  no  more  dominion  over  Him."  He  died  once, 
and  He  died  for  sin.  "  Therefore,"  says  St.  Augustine,  "  by 
dying  on  Calvary,  He  showed  that  He  was  man ;  by  rising 
from  the  grave.  He  proved  that  He  was  God." 

If,  therefore,  dearly  beloved  brethren,  dunng  the  past 
forty  days,  the  Churcli.  has  called  u])on  us  for  fasting  and 
mortification,  has  called  upon  us  to  chastise  our  bodies  and 
humble  our  souls  {^^  humilkibam  in  jejanio  anunam  meani,^') 
"  In  my  fast  I  will  humble  my  soul" — if  the  Church  during 
the  past  weeks  called  upon  us  to  be  afflicted,  and  to  shed 
our  tears  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  crucified — if  we  have  done 


THE  RESUBRECTIOX.  139 

tills — above  all,  if  we  have  purified  our  souls  so  as  to  let  Ilis 
light,  and  His  glory^  and  His  grace  into  onr  hearts, — to-day 
have  we  a  right  to  rejoice :  and  the  message  ^\hicll  I  bring 
to  you  is  a  message  of  exceeding  great  joy.  Christ  is  risen  ! 
The  Crucilied  has  risen  from  the  grave  !  Weakness  has 
clothed  itself  \\ith  strength.  Ignominy  has  clothed  itself 
with  glory.  Death  has  })een  absor})cd  in  victory ;  and  the 
powers  of  hell  are  crushed  and  confounded  for  evermore.  Is 
not  this  a  message  of  great  joy  and  triumph  ?  And  truly  I 
may  say  to  you,  in  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  '^  Gaudete  in 
Bom'nio ;  iterum  clico.  gmidefe^' — "  Rejoice,  therefore,  in  the 
Lord  !     I  say  to  you  again,  rejoice  !  " 

Two  reasons  have  we  for  our  Easter  joy  and  gladness. 
Two  reasons  have  we  for  our  great  rejoicing.  First  of  all, 
that  of  the  friend  to  behold  the  glory  of  his  friend :  the  joy 
of  a  disciple  to  see  the  glory  of  his  master :  a  joy  centering 
in  Jesus  Christ — rejoicing  in  Him  and  with  Him,  for  His 
own  sake.  Was  it  not  for  His  own  sake  we  sorrowed  ? 
Was  it  not  because  of  His  grief  and  sufferings  we  shed  our 
teai-s  and  cast  ourselves  down  before  Him!  So,  also,  for 
His  own  sake  let  us  rejoice.  We  rejoice  to  behold  our  God 
reassuming  the  glory  of  His  divinity,  and  so  participate  in 
that  glory  to  His  sacred  humanity,  that  the  sunshine  of  the 
eternal  light  of  God  streams  out  from  every  member,  sense, 
and  limb  of  the  sacred  body  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Pure 
light  it  seemed.  With  the  transparency  of  Heaven  it  as- 
sumed all  its  splendor.  All  the  glory  was  \^ntliin  Him  in 
Almighty  affluence,  and  sent  itself  forth,  so  that  He  was 
truly  not  only  the  light  of  grace  for  the  world,  but  the  light 
of  glory.  For  this  must  every  true  believer  in  Jesus  Christ 
rejoice. 

But  the  second  cause  of  our  joy  is  for  our  own  sake  ;  for, 
although  we  grieve  for  Him  and  sorrow  for  Him,  for  His 
own  sake,  upon  Calvary,  we  also  grieve  for  ourselves.  And 
it  is,  for  us,  the  keenest  and  the  bitterest  sorrow,  that  the 
work  of  Calvary  was  the  work  of  our  doing  by  our  sins  ; 
that  if  we  were  not  what  we  were.  He  would  never  have 
been  what  He  was  on  that  Friday  morning.  That  for  us 
He  bared  His  innocent  l)Osom  to  receive  all  the  sorrows  and 
all  the  agonies  of  His  Passion  ;  that  for  us  did  He  expose 
His  virgin  body  to  that  fearful  scourging  and  terrible  cruci- 
fixion ;  that  for  our  sins  did  He  languish  upon  the  cross  j 


140  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

that  tliey  put  upon  Him  the  burden  of  tlie  iniquities  of  us 
all ;  and  "  He  was  afflicted  for  our  iniquities  and  was  bruised 
f<jr  our  sins.''  It  is  for  our  own  sorrows  and  for  our  own  sins  that 
the  very  deepest  sorrow^  has  a  place  in  the  Crucitixion.  Well 
did  He— He,  who  permitted  that  we  should  be  the  cause  of 
His  sorrow — wish  us,  also,  for  our  own  sake,  to  participate  in 
His  joy.  And  why '?  Because  the  resurrection  of  Christ 
from  the  dead  was  not  only  the  proof  of  His  divinity,  the 
establishment  of  His  truth,  the  conviction  of  His  miracles, 
the  foundation  of  His  religion,  but  it  was,  moreover,  the  type 
and  model  of  the  glorious  resurrection  that  awaits  every  man 
wLo  dies  in  the  love,  and  fear,  and  grace  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Every  man  who  preserves  his  soul  pure,  and  every  man  who 
restores  to  his  soul  the  purity  of  repentance, — to  every  sucli 
man  is  promised  the  glory  of  the  resurrection,  like  unto  that 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  For  as  Christ  rose  from  the  dead, 
so  shall  we  rise ;  and  as  He  clothed  Himself  with  glory,  so  shall 
we  pass  from  glory  unto  glory — to  see  Christ  in  the  air — to  be 
like  unto  Him  in  glor\^ ;  and  so  shall  we  be  with  the  Lord  for 
ever.  And  tliat  glory  which  comes  to  our  Lord  to-da}^,  comes 
not  only  to  His  grand  soul,  retm'ning  surrounded  by  the 
Saints  whom  He  had  delivered  from  their  prison,  but  it  comes 
also  to  His  body,  wiping  away  and  erasing  every  stain,  every 
defilement,  every  wound,  and  communicating  to  that  body 
the  attributes  of  the  Spirit ;  for  "  that  which  was  laid  down 
in  dishonor  rose  in  glory" — that  which  was  laid  down  in 
weakness  rose  in  power — that  which  was  laid  down  subject 
to  grief,  if  not  to  corruption,  rose  a  spiritual  and  incorruptible 
body.  Even  so  shall  we  rise  : — for  I  announce  to  you  a 
w^onderful  thing,  that  when  the  Angels  sound  the  trumpet, 
and  call  the  dead  to  judgment,  they  that  are  in  Christ  shall 
rise  first.  And  as  the  soul  of  the  Redeemer  went  back  to 
the  tomb,  and  entered  into  His  body,  to  make  that  body 
shine  in  its  spiritual  glory, — so  shall  our  souls  return  from 
the  heights  of  heavenly  contemplation,  to  find  these  bodies 
again — to  reenter  them — and  to  make  them  shine  with  the 
gTory  of  God,  if  w^e  only  consent  to  live  and  die  in  the  grace 
and  favor  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  eyes  that  now  cannot  look 
upon  the  sun  in  heaven  without  being  blinded,  these  very 
eyes  can  gaze  upon  the  face  of  God  and  not  be  blinded  by 
His  majesty.  The  ears  that  are  now  weary  of  the  music  of 
earth  shall  be  so  attuned  to  the  music  of  Heaven,  that  the 


THE  li^S  UB  RECTI  OX.  1 1 1 

rapture  of  its  liearing  shall  continue  in  all'  the  ecstasy  of  de- 
ligljt,  so  long  as  God  is  God.  The  heart,  now  so'circum- 
scri]»ed  as  scarcely  to  be  able  to  rise  to  tlie  dignity  of  the 
highest  form  of  human  love,  will  then  be  so  purified  and 
exuhed  that  it  will  be  filled  with  the  fairest  forms  of  divine 
love — ])urified,  sanctified,  animating  every  natural  sentiment, 
every  affection,  until  the  body,  growing  into  the  soul's  essence, 
shall  all  become  spiritual  and,  as  it  were,  divine.  In  a  word, 
this  gross,  coiTuptible,  material  body  of  ours  shall  be  so 
spiritualized — so  glorified — so  refined,  as  to  be  capable  of  the 
most  exquisite  pleasure  of  every  spiritual  sense  j  and  yet 
pleasiu-es  purifying  to  the  soul,  in  which  every  thought  and 
every  power  of  the  soul  and  body  shall  be  wrapped  up  into 
God. 

But  mark,  dear  brethren ;  the  resun-ection  of  our  Lord  is 
the  pledge  and  promise  that  every  soul  shall  realize ;  but 
two  things  are  necessary  in  order  to  arrive  at  this  glory. 
Two  conditions  are  laid  down  in  order  to  attain  to  this  won- 
derful fulfilment  of  all  the  love  of  the  redemption  of  Jesus 
Christ.  And  these  two  things  are :  First  of  all,  we  must 
keep  a  pure  soul  and  a  pure  c«jnscience.  Mark  how  Jesus 
Christ  came  to  His  glory.  He  took  a  human  heart,  He  took 
a  human  soul.  He  took  a  human  conscience, — for  He  was 
true  man.  But  He  took  every  element  of  His  humanity 
from  a  source  so  pure,  so  limpid,  so  holy,  that  in  heaven  or 
on  earth  nothing  was  ever  seen,  or  ever  shall  be  seen,  until 
the  end  of  eternity,  that  shall  be  compared  with  the  Blessed 
Virgin's  Son.  Throughout  His  wh<de  life  of  thirty-three 
years,  nothing  in  it  could  have  the  slightest  shadow  of  sin ; 
—nothing  that  could  have  the  slightest  feature  of  sin  npon 
it,  ever  was  allowed  to  come  near  the  blessed  and  most  im- 
maculate soul  and  heart  of  Jesus  Christ.  When,  at  last, 
He  permitted  the  appearance  of  the  sin  that  was  not  His 
own  to  come  upon  Him — to  touch  Him  nearly — it  so  fright- 
ened Him — it  so  horrified  Him — that  the  blood  burst,  as  we 
know,  from  every  pore  of  His  body.  It  seemed  as  if  His 
body,  as  it  were,  could  not  stand  the  sight.  His  was  the 
grace  of  pmity.  Oh,  my  beloved  brethren,  that  we  might 
attain  to  that  self-same  purity,  as  far  as  our  nature  vn]\  per- 
mit us,  that  we  might  only  know  the  beauty  of  that  puritv 
beaming  from  Him,  as  its  author  and  creator!  Christ  ouV 
Lord  laid  out  in  His  Chmch  the  path  of  purity — the  path  of 


142  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

innocence.  But,  for  all  those  who  fall,  or  stumble,  or  turn 
aside  for  a  moment.  He  has  built  another  royal  road  to  sal- 
vation, namely,  the  road  of  penance.  One  or  other  of  these 
must  we  tread;  whether  we  tread  the  way  of  purity  or  the 
way  of  penance,  we  must  suffer  with  Christ  if  we  wish  to  be 
purified  ^\ith  Him.  But,  mark !  All  pure  and  holy  as  He 
was — infinite  purity  and  holiness  itself — no  passion  to  disturb 
Him — no  evil  example  to  exercise  its  influence  over  Him — 
no  secret  emotion  of  pleasure, — even  of  that  purely  human 
pleasure,  to  come  and  interfere  in  the  remotest  degree  with 
the  perfect  union  with  His  divinity — yet  with  all  this,  He 
mortified  that  sacred  body ;  He  fasted ;  He  humbled 
Himself;  He  prayed;  and  He  ended  by  giving  tliat  body  to 
be  scourged  and  to  be  crucified !  He  slied  His  blood. 
What  an  example  was  this !  That  body  of  Jesus  Christ 
was  no  impediment  to  His  holiness.  It  only  helped  Him ; 
for  it  was  the  instrument  of  His  divine  will  in  the  salvation 
of  men.  Our  bodies,  on  the  other  hand,  impede  us  every 
day,  and  put  between  us  and  God.  Every  passion  that 
dwells  within  us,  rises  from  time  to  time  to  separate  us  from 
God.  Every  appetite  that  clamors  for  enjoyment  would 
fain  destroy  the  soul  for  ever,  for  a  momentary  pleasure. 
Every  sense  that  brings  thought  and  idea  to  the  spirit,  brings 
also  in  its  train  the  imminent,  the  dangerous,  the  poisonous 
image  of  the  evil  example  of  sin.  That  which,  with  Christ, 
was  a  work  of  pleasure,  is,  with  us,  a  work  df  toil.  It  is  toil 
to  deny  ourselves  somewhat ;  to  put  the  sign  of  the  cross,  in 
penance  and  mortification,  upon  this  flesh ;  to  enter  some- 
Avliat  into  the  sufierings  of  our  Lord — into  His  fasting — into 
His  prayer — into  His  mortification — in  order  that  our  bodies 
may  be  chastened ;  for  it  is  only  chastened  bodies  that  can 
contain  pure  and  sinless  souls.  Tiiose  who  are  pure  must 
chastise  their  bodies  somewhat — must  deny  themselves — in 
order  to  preserve  their  purity.  Those  who  are  penitent  must  do 
it  in  order  to  appease  the  justice  of  God  upon  that  bod}''  which, 
some  time  or  other,  has  led  them  away  from  God  by  sin,  and 
so  tended  to  destroy  the  soul.  And  this  is  the  reason  why  the 
Catholic  Church  commands  us  to  fast :  that  it  tells  us  we 
must  not  enjoy  overmuch  the  pleasures  of  the  theatre ;  the 
pleasures  of  gay  and  festive  reunions.  It  tells  us  that  w^e 
must,  from  time  to  time,  be  hungry,  and  yet  not  taste  food, 
— that  we  must  be  thirsty,  and  yet  refuse  to  refi-esh  ourselves 


THE  RESURRECTION.  143 

for  a  time  with  drink.  And  this,  not  only  that  these  bodies  may 
be  chastened  for  a  time,  but  that  they  msCy  be  transformed  into 
fitness  for  the  glory  of  Heaven.  And  here  I  would  remark 
that,  while  every  other  religion,  while  every  false  religion 
puts  away  sadness  and  sorrow,  puts  away  the  precept  of  fast- 
ing, and  says  that  men  may  pander  to,  and  feed,  and  cherish 
their  bodies, — the  Catholic  Church  alone,  from  the  very  first 
day  of  her  existence,  drew  the  sword  of  tlie  spirit — the  sword 
of  mortification — and  declares  through  her  monks,  through 
her  hermits,  through  her  virgins,  through  her  priesthood,  that 
the  body  must  be  subdued,  it  must  be  abased,  it  must  be 
chastened,  in  order  that  the  soul  may  rise  to  God  by  purity 
and  grace  here,  and  through  them,  to  the  spiritual  glory  of 
the  resurrection  hereafter. 

I  say  that  there  is  a  third  motive  for  our  joy  this  morn- 
ing, and  it  is  this  :  May  I,  dearly  beloved,  in  this,  which  I 
may  call  the  closing  day  of  our  Lent — may  I  congratulate 
those  whom  I  see  before  me  ?  The  constant  attendance  of 
many  amongst  you,  during  the  last  forty  evenings  of  Lent, 
has  made  your  faces  familiar  to  me.  Over  these  Catholic 
countenances  have  I  seen  from  time  to  time  the  expression — 
now  of  sorrow,  now  of  delight,; — but,  whether  of  sorrow  or 
of  joy,  always  of  sympathy  with  Jesus  Christ.  Of  this  am  I 
a  witness  ;  and  on  this  do  I  congratulate  you.  If  it  be  true 
that  the  Christian  man  is,  indeed,  a  man  in  whom  Christ 
lives,  according  to  the  words  of  the  Apostle  :  '^  I  live  no 
hmger,  I,  but  Christ  lives  within  me," — then,  according  to 
his  words,  you  are  lost  to  yourselves ;  you  are  dead ;  and 
your  life  is  hidden  with  Christ  in  God.  If,  then,  the  Chris- 
tian man  be  the  man  in  whom  Christ  lives,  well  may  I  con- 
gratulate you  upon  every  emotion  of  joy  and  of  sorrow  that 
has  passed  through  your  hearts  and  over  your  faces  during 
these  forty  blessed  days  that  you  have  passed  ;  because  these 
emotions  were  the  gift  of  Christ,  and  the  evidence  of  the  life 
of  Christ  in  you,  and  of  your  familiarity  with  Christ's  image. 

May  I  congratulate  you  on  a  good  confession  and  a  fer- 
vent communion  ?  May  I,  in  heart  and  spirit,  bow  down 
before  every  man  among  you  to-day,  as  a  man  wdio  holds 
in  his  bosom  Jesus  Christ ;  as  a' man  whose  heart  is  not  an 
empty  tomb,  like  that  in  the  garden  outside  Jerusalem ;  not 
occupied  merely  by  an  Angel ;  but  whose  heart  is  the  sanc- 
tuary   wherein   tlie   risen   and  glorified  Saviour    dwells  this 


144  FA  THEB  B  URKWS  DISCO  URSES. 

morning?  May  I  congratnlate  yon  on  this?  I  hope  so. 
I  hope  that  the  word^  that  have  been  heard  here  have  not 
been  spoken  in  vain.  It  would  fill  me  with  fear  if  I  thought 
there  was  one  among  the  audiences  who  filled  this  church 
during  the  last  Lent,  whose  hardened  heart  refused  to  make 
Ill's  Easter  confession  and  communion  j  and  to  make  it  as  the 
beginning  of  a  series  of  more  frequent — and,  if  possible^  of 
monthly  confessions  and  communions.  It  would  fill  me 
with  fear  if  I  thought  there  was  such  a  one  here ;  because 
then  there  would  come  upon  me  the  conviction  that  it  was 
my  own  un worthiness — my  own  unfitness — my  own  weakness 
that  made  the  Word  fall  fruitless  on  my  lips,  and  might, 
})erhaps,  make  me  a  reprobate  whilst  I  was  preaching  the 
Word.  But,  no.  Nay,  I  will  rather  presume  that  God  Jias 
done  His  own  work — that  the  Divine  Husbandman,  who 
placed  the  seed  of  His  Word  in  such  hands  as  mine — most 
unworthy — that  He  has  made  that  Word  spring  up  j  and 
that  the  fairest  fiowers  of  grace  and  sanctity  already  crown 
it  in  your  hearts  to-day.  Upon  this,  therefore,  I  congratulate 
you  as  the  third  gi'eat  motive  of  your  joy  ;  that  not  only  is 
the  Saviour  glorified  in  Jerusalem,  but  He  is  glorified  in 
your  hearts.  Not  only  has  He  conquered  death  in  the 
Garden  of  Gethsemane,  but  He  -has  cont^uered  death  in  your 
souls.  Not  only  has  He  driven  the  devil  and  all  tlie  powers 
of  hell  before  Him,  as  He  burst  from  the  tomb,  but  He  has 
driven  him  from  your  hearts,  into  which  He  has  entered  this 
morning.  Oh,  brethren,  keep  Him!  Keep  Him  as  your 
best  and  only  friend  !  Keep  Him  as  you  would  keep  the 
pledge  of  that  future  glory  which  is  to  come,  and  of  which, 
says  the  Apostle:  ''Eye  hath  not  seen  and  ear  hath  not 
heard  ;  nor  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive 
— what  things  the  Lord  God  of  heaven  hath  prepared  for 
those  who  cease  not  to  love  Him  ! " 


THE  CATHOLIC  MISSION. 

{A  Sermon  delivered  ly  the  Verij  Rev.  T.  N.  BxirJce,  O.P.,  on 
Sunday,  April  7,  1872,  in  the  Chapel  of  the  "  Xavier  Alumni 
Sodality,"  attached  to  the  Church  and  Collcje  of  St.  Francis  Xavier, 
JS'ew  York.'} 

"Now,  when  it  was  late  that  same  day,  being  the  first  day  of  the 
week,  and  the  doors  were  shut,  where  the  disciples  were  gathered  to- 
gether, for  fear  of  the  Jews,  Jesus  came,  and  stood  in  the  midst,  and 
eaid  to  them:  'Peace  be  to  yon.'  *  *  *  *  The  disciples,  therefore, 
were  glad  w^hen  they  saw  the  Lord :  and  He  said  to  them  again : 
'Peace  be  to  you.'  Now,  Thomas,  the  son  of  Didymus,  was  not  with 
them.  *  *  *  Jesus  came  and  stood  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  said  : 
'  Peace  be  to  you !'  "    John  xx  :  19-31. 

This  mode  of  salutation  was  adopted  b}^  our  Divine  Lord 
after  His  resuiTection  and  not  before.  Invariably,  for  the 
forty  days  that  He  remained  with  His  own,  after  he  had  risen 
unto  His  glory,  He  saluted  them  with  the  words — ''  Peace  be 
to  you,"  as  He  had  said  elsewhere^  "  My  peace  I  leave  unto 
you ;  My  peace  I  give  unto  you."  After  His  resmTection,  I 
say,  He  said  these  words.  Before  His  Passion  He  could 
scarcely  say  them  -uith  truth ;  for,  up  to  the  moment  that  He 
sent  fortli  His  last  cry  upon  the  Cross, — saving  us, — there 
was  war  between  God  and  man  ;  and  how  could  the  Son  of 
God  say,  ^^ Peace  be  to  you?"  But  now,  when  He  has 
reconciled  all  in  Himself — omnia  reconciliavif,  et  in  scmct  ipso 
pacem  faciens, — creating  peace — that,  wliich  He  Himself 
produced.  He  gave  to  His  Apostles  in  the  words  which  I 
have  just  read  fur  you. 

And  now,  my  dear  friends,  let  us  consider  what  is  that 
peace  of  which  our  Saviour  speaks ;  what  is  that  peace  which 
He  declares  to  be  the  inheritance  of  the  elect, — the  great  leg- 
acy that  He  left  to  the  world, — "  the  peace  of  God  that  sur- 
passeth  all  understanding."  In  what  does  it  consist  ?  Do 
we  know  the  meaning — the  very  definition — of  it?  It  is  a 
simple  word,  and  familiar  to  us,  this  word  peace ;  but  I  ven- 
ture to  say  that  it  is  one  of  those  simple  words  that  men  do 

7 


146  FATHER  BUBKWS  DISCOURSES. 

not  take  the  trouble  to  seek  to  intei-pret  or  to  understand.  In 
order,  tlien,  that  we  may  understand  wliat  is  tliis  "peace  of 
God  wliicli  surpassetli  all  understanding-,"  and  in  order  that 
in  our  understanding-  of  it  by  the  light  of  faith,  we  may  dis- 
cover our  own  mission  as  Christian  men,  I  ask  you  to  con- 
sider what  the  mission  of  the  Divine  Son  of  God  was,  when 
He  came  and  "  was  incarnate  by  the  Holy  Ghost  of  the  Vir- 
gin Mary  and  was  made  man."  What  did  He  come  for  ? 
What  work  did  He  have  to  do  ?  I  answer  in  the  language 
of  Scriptm-e :  "  He  came  to  effect  many  works  of  peace  and 
reconciliation."  In  the  day  that  man  sinned  and  rebelled 
against  God,  he  declared  war  against  the  Almighty ;  and 
God  took  up  the  challenge,  and  declared  war  against  sin- 
ners. This  war  involved  separation  between  God  and  man  ; 
and  in  this  state  of  warfare  did  Christ  oiu-  Lord  find  the 
world.  He  found  the  world  separated  from  God,  first  of  all 
by  error  and  ignorance.  "  There  is  no  truth  and  there  is  no 
knowledge  of  God  in  the  land,"  was  the  complaint  of  the 
Prophet  Isaiah.  "  Truth  is  diminished  among  the  children 
of  men,"  exclaimed,  with  sorrow,  the  royal  Psalmist.  "  No- 
where is  God  known." 

Before  the  Son  of  God  came  upon  the  earth,  the  nations 
had  wandered  away  into  a  thousand  forms  of  idolatry  and 
of  error.  Every  man  called  his  own  form  of  eiTor  by  the 
name  of  "  Religion."  Some  were  "  Epicureans ;  "  sensual- 
ists— beasts — were  made  gods  by  them.  They  canonized 
the  principle  of  impurity,  and  they  called  it  by  the  name  of 
a  goddess ;  and  they  declared  that  this  was  their  religion ! 
Others  there  were,  brutalized  in  mind,  who  worshipped  their 
own  passions  of  strife;  and  they  canonized  the  principle  of 
revenge  and  of  bloodshed,  and  they  worshipped  it  under  the 
name  of  Mars.  This  thing  went  so  far  that  even  thieves, 
robbers,  the  dishonest,  had  their  own  god ; — and  the  principle 
of  dishonesty  and  of  thievery  was  canonized,  or,  rather,  dei- 
fied, and  called  religion,  and  embodied  under  the  name  of  the 
god  Mercury  !  It  is  a  trick  of  the  devil,  and  it  is  a  trick  of  tlie 
world, — to  take  up  some  form  of  error — some  form  of  unbelief 
— and  to  call  that  "Religion."  When  He  came  who  was 
"the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life,"  there  was  darkness 
over  the  whole  earth.  The  world  was  "  civilized  "  enough, 
Ai'ts  and  sciences  flourished.  It  was  the  "  Augustan  Era," 
which  has  given  a  name  to   the   very  highest  civilization 


THE  CATHOLIC  MISSION.  147 

among  the  nations,  from  that  day  to  this.  But  \\liat  was 
the  awful  want  of  their  civilization  ?  They  ignored  God ; 
they  took  no  account  of  God  in  their  kn(Jwledge.  They 
thought  they  could  be  wise  without  God.  God  nullitied  their 
wisdom,  and  al)andoned  them  to  a  reprobate  sense.  Thus  did 
mankind  declare  war  against  the  God  of  Truth  and  of  Wis- 
dom. "What  followed  from  this?  Another  kind  of  war, 
more  terrible,  if  you  will, — the  effect — the  natural  and 
necessary  effect — of  that  separation  of  the  human  intellect 
from  God.  What  was  tliis  f  Every  fonn  of  sin — nay,  the 
vilest,  the  filthiest,  the  most  abominable  sin — was  found 
among  men.  Not  as  an  exception ;  not  as  a  thing  to  be  hid- 
den J  but  as  a  thing  to  be  acknowledged,  as  a  matter  of 
course.  The  husband  was  not  faithful  to  the  wife,  nor  the 
wife  to  the  husband.  Juvenal  tells  us  that,  in  that  flourish- 
ing society  of  paganism,  as  a  man  saw  his  wife  growing  old 
— and,  accordingly,  as  the  bloom  of  her  youth  passed  away 
from  her, — he  began  to  despise  her  j  until,  in  tlie  words  o*f 
the  satirist,  the  day  came  when  she  saw  a  fair,  blooming 
maiden  come  into  the  house,  and  herself,  the  mother  of  chif- 
dren,  summoned  to  go  out  5  because  her  eyes  had  lost  their 
lustre,  and  her  features  the  roses  and  the*  lilies  of  beauty  ; 
and  a  stranger  was  there  to  take  her  place.  There  was  no 
piinciple  of  fidelity.  There  was  no  principle  of  honesty. 
No  man  could  trust  his  fellow-man.  No  man  knew  who  was 
to  be  tmsted.  Even  the  ancient,  rugged  virtues  that  the 
early  Republics  of  Greece  and  Rome"  produced,  had  passed 
away.  The  world  was  over-civilized  for  them.  They  were 
the  rough  forms,  with  some  semblance  of  that  \iitue  upon 
them  that  the  rugged,  half-civilized  man  possessed,  and  were 
utterly  laughed  at,  and  scorned,  and  scoffed  at  by  the  civil- 
ized pagan,  who  was  the  very  embodiment  of  sensuality  and 
impurity. 

Thus  did  the  world  declare  war  against  God,  and  for  sen- 
suality. The  God  of  Purity, — they  knew  Him  not, — and 
therefore,  they  could  'not  believe  in  Him.  '^  Tliere  is  no 
truth,  and  there  is  no  knowledge  of  God  in  the  land,"  says 
the  Prophet.  Then  he  immediately  adds:  "Cursing,  lying, 
theft,  and  adultery  have  ovei-thrown  and  blotted  out  much 
love :  because  my  people,  saitli  the  Lord,  have  no  grace." 

The  second  kind  of  war  which  our  Lord  found  upon  the 
eai'th  was  the  war  between  men  :  for  they  who  had  ceased  to 


148  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

know  God,  had  ceased  to  love  or  respect  one  another.  Split 
up  into  a  multitude  of  sects, — nation  against  nation,  province 
ao-ainst  province,  tlie  very  history  of  our  race  was  nothing  but 
alii  story  of  war,  and  strife,  and  bloodshed.  Then  came  the 
Son  of  God  Incarnate,  with  healing  hand  and  powerful  touch, 
to  restore  the  world,  and  to  renew  the  face  of  the  earth.  How 
did  He  do  this  !  It  could  only  be  done  by  Him ;  and  by 
Him  could  it  be  only  done  by  His  instituting,  and  leaving, 
and  declaring  the  truth  of  God  Himself,  and  lea\nng  it  in 
the  midst  of  men ;  the  unchangeable  truth,  the  eternal  truth, 
tbe  pure,  unmixed,  briglit  light  of  truth  as  it  beamed  forth 
from  the  eternal  wisdom  of  God.  It  was  only  thus  that  He 
could  restore  mankind  to  peace  with  the  God  of  eternal  truth. 
Then  it  was  necessary  that,  having  thus  established  the  truth, 
He  should  wipe  out  the  sin,  by  the  shedding  of  His  own 
blood,  as  a  victim,  and  that  He  should  leave  behind  Him,  for 
ever  in  the  world,  the  ranning  stream  of  that  sanctifying 
blood  '^  unto  the  cleansing  of  the  sinner  and  the  unclean, — 
unto  the  strengthening  of  the  weak,  unto  the  encouraging  of 
the  strong,  unto  the  revivifying  of  the  dead."  Did  Christ  do 
this^  Yes,  He  lifted  up  His  voice  and  spoke;  and  the  voice 
of  the  Saviour  was  the  voice  of  the  eternal  God.  And  mark, 
that,  before  He  saved  the  world  by  the  shedding  of  His 
blood, — before  He  redeemed  the  sin, — for  tliree  long  years, 
nio-ht  and  day,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  He  was  preaching 
and  teaching ;  dispelling  error,  letting  in  the  light ;  for  man- 
kind could  not  be  prepared  for  redemption  except  through  the 
light  and  through  the  truth  of  God.  Wherefore  we  find  Him, 
now  on  the  mountain  side,  now  on  the  lake ;  now  among  the 
Pharisees,  now  in  the  desert ;  now  in  the  temple  of  Jerusa- 
lem, now  in  the  by-ways  of  Judea  ;  now  in  tlie  little  towns 
and  villages;  but  everywhere — ^' quofidie  clocens"  teaching 
every  day,  for  three  years;  preparing  the  world  for  its 
redemption ;  reconciling  the  human  intelligence  with  the 
light  of  God's  truth ;  oj)ening  up  the  minds,  and  letting  the 
stream  of  pure  light  from  God  into  theuntellect.  Then,  w  hen 
the  three  years'  preparation  was  over;  then,  when  He  had 
formed  His  disciples,  and  established  His  Apostolic  College; 
— then  did  the  eternal  Victim  go  upon  the  Cross,  and  puur 
out  His  blood :  and  the  shedding  of  that  blood  washed  away 
the  sins  of  the  world,  and  left  open  those  streams  from  His 
sacred  wounds  that  were  to  flow  through  the  sacramental 


THE  CATHOLIC  MISSION.  149 

channels,  and  that  were  to  find  every  human  sonl,  with  all 
its  spiritual  wants,  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  nntil  the  end 
of  time, — according  to  that  promise  relating  to  the  Church  of 
the  Lord  :  ''  You  shall  draw  waters  of  joy  from  the  fountains 
of  soiTow !  '^  He  purified  the  world  by  the  shedding  of  His 
blood.  But  well  did  He  know  our  natiu'e.  ^^  Et  naturam 
nosfram  ipse  cofjiwuitJ'  He  made  us,  and  He  knew  ns.  Well 
did  He  know  that  the  stream  that  He  poiu'ed  forth  from  His 
wounds  on  Calvary  should  flow  for  ever;  because  the  sins 
which  that  blood  alone  could  wipe  away  would  be  renewed, 
and  renewed  again,  as  long  as  mankind  should  be  upon  this 
earth.  "  For,'' — and  He  said  it  with  sorrowing  voice — ^'  it 
needs  must  be  that  scandal  conieth." 

Thus,  in  the  Divine  Tnith  and  the  sacramental  grace 
which  He  gave,  did  He  reconcile  mankind  to  His  Heavenly 
Father,  and  restore  peace  between  God  and  man.  Then, 
touching  the  other  great  warfare.  He  proclaimed  the  principle 
of  universal  charity — declared  that  no  injuries,  no  insult, 
must  obstruct  it,  or  break  it,  or  destroy  it — declared  that  we 
must  do  good  for  evil, — declared  that  we  must  live  for  man ; 
take  an  interest  in  all  men,  try  to  gain  tlie  souls  of  all  men ; 
and  that  this  love,  tliis  fraternity,  this  charity  must  reign  in 
our  hearts  at  the  very  same  time  that  we  are  upholding,  with 
every  power  of  our  mind — and,  if  necessary,  of  our  body, 
the  sacred  piinciples  of  Divine  Truth,  and  of  Divine  grace. 

Beholll,  then,  my  dear  friends,  the  peace  ''that  passetli  all 
understanding;'^  the  peace  that  He  came  to  leave  and  to  give. 
Peace  means  union.  When  nations  are  at  war,  they  are 
separated  from  each  other  into  two  hostile  camps  ;  and  they 
look  upon  each  other  with  scowling  eyes  of  hatred  and 
anger ; — but  when  the  war  is  over,  they  come  forth — they 
meet — and  they  join  hands  in  peace.  So,  the  meeting  of  the 
intellect  of  man  with  the  truth  of  God — the  admission  of 
that  divine  truth  into  the  mind — the  opening  of  the  heart  to 
the  admission  of  the  gi'ace  of  God,  and  of  om'  Lord  Himself 
by  the  Sacraments,  establishes  the  meeting  of  peace  between 
God  and  man.  The  cliarity  of  which  I  have  spoken — the 
nobleness  of  Christian  forgiveness,  which  is  the  complement 
of  Christian  humility — the  grandeur  of  Christian  patience 
and  forbearance — establishes  peace  among  all  mankind.  It 
was  the  design  of  Christ  that  that  eternal  peace  of  wdiich  I 
speak  should  also  be  represented  by  unity; — that  all  men 


150  FATHER  BUIIEE'S  DISCOURSES. 

sliould  be  one  by  the  unity  of  tlionglit  in  one  common  faith, 
by  the  unity  oi  heart  in  one  connnon  charity.  And  it  is 
wortliy  of  remark  that,  just  as  our  Lord  saluted  His  Apostles 
Avith  the  words,  "  My  peace  be  with  you," — after  His  llesur- 
rection — so,  before  JSis  Passion — on  the  night  before  He 
suffered — He  put  up  His  prayer  to  God — and  over  aiid  over 
again,  to  the  Father  in  Heaven — that  all  men  might  be  one, 
even  as  He  and  the  Father  were  one.  "  Father,"  He  says, 
*'  Keep  them  one  even,  as  thou  and  I  are  one."  That  is  to 
say,  a  union  of  faith — a  recognition  of  one  undivided  and 
unchanging  truth, — a  bowing  do^vn  of  all  before  one  idea — 
and,  then,  a  union  of  hearts  springing  from  that  union  of 
faith.  This  was  the  design  of  Christy  and  for  this  He  labored. 
And  this  the  Church  has  labored  to  effect.  For  this  she  has 
labored  two  thousand  years.  She  has  succeeded,  in  a  great 
measure,  in  doing  it; — but  the  work  has  been  upset  and 
destroyed  in  many  lands  by  the  hands  of  those  who  were 
the  enemies  of  God  in  spoiling  and  breaking  up  the  fair 
design  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour. 

Now,  in  this  eternal  and  immutable  truth  preached  to  all 
men — recognized  by  all  men — gathering  in  every  intelli- 
gence— respecting  all  honest  deviations — yet  uniting  all  in 
faith ; — in  this  truth  and  in  this  sanctifying  peace  which  is  in 
the  Catholic  Church,  lies  the  salvation  of  the  world — the  sal- 
vati(jn  of  society — the  salvation  of  every  principle  which 
fonus  this  highly  commended  and  oft-praised  civilization 
of  ours.  The  moment  we  step  one  inch  out  of  the  Catholic 
Chm'ch  and  look  around  us,  what  do  we  find?  Is  there  any 
agency  on  earth, — even  though  it  may  call  itself  a  religion, — 
that  will  answer  the  purposes  of  society  !  Is  there  any  of 
these  sects — or  religions,  as  they  call  themselves,  that  can 
make  a  man  pure?  No.  They  are  unable  to  probe  and 
sound  the  depths  of  the  human  heart.  They  do  not  pretend 
to  legislate  for  purity  of  thought.  Practically,  they  reduce 
the  idea  of  purity  to  a  mere  saving  of  appearances  before  the 
w^orld, — to  a  mere  external  respect  and  decorum.  Are  they 
able  to  shake  a  man  out  of  his  sins  ?  No ;  there  is  no  real- 
ity about  them.  They  have  no  tribunal  of  conscience,  even, 
to  which  they  oblige  a  man  to  come  after  careful  self-exam- 
ination. They  have  no  standard  of  judgment  to  put  before 
him.  They  have  no  agency,  divinely  appointed,  to  crush  a 
man, — to  humble  a  man, — to  break  the  pride  in  him, — ^to 


THE  CATHOLIC  MISSION.  151 

make  liim  confess  and  avow  his  sin  j — and  then,  lifting  the 
sacramental  Land  over  him, — by  reason  of  his  humility,  his 
sorrow,  and  his  confession, — to  send  him  forth  renewed  and 
converted  by  the  grace  of  God.  There  is  no  such  thing. 
There  is  nothing  so  calculated  to  enable  a  man  to  keep  his 
word  faithfully.  No.  Tlie  first  principle  of  fidelity' — Iji^o 
at  the  root  of  all  society — the  great  fundamental  piinciple 
of  fidcdity — is  the  Sacrament  which  makes  the  sanctity  of 
maiTiage, — by  which  those  whom  it  unites  are  sealed  with 
the  seal  of  God,  and  sanctified  with  the  truth  of  God's  Church. 
The  man  is  saved  fi'om  the  treachery  of  his  own  passions. 
The  woman  is  saved  from  the  inconstancy  of  the  heart  of 
man.  The  family  is  saved  in  the  assertion  of  the  mother's 
rights, — in  the  placing  on  her  head  a  crown  that  no  hand  on 
earth,  can  touch  or  take  away.  The  futm'e  of  the  world  is 
saved  by  ennobling  the  Clnistian  woman,  and  wife,  and 
mother,  with  something  of  the  purity  of  the  Yhgin  Mother 
of  God !  Do  they  do  this  ?  Oh,  I  feel  the  heart  within  me 
indignant, — the  blood  almost  boiling  in  my  veins  when  I 
think  of  it ! — when  I  see  under  the  shadow  of  the  Crucified, — 
nineteen  hunched  years  after  He  had  sanctified  the  world, — 
when  I  see  men  deliberately  rooting  up  the  Yevy  foundations 
of  society,  loosening  the  keystone  in  the  arch,  and  pulling 
it  down,  in  the  day  when  they  went  back  to  theh  paganism, 
— in  the  day  when  they  threatened  that  the  bond  that  God 
had  tied  should  be  unloosed  by  the  hands  of  men, — in  the 
day  when  they  gave  the  lie  to  the  Lord  Himself,  who  de- 
clared— '^  What  God  hath  joined  let  no  man  separate ;" — 
in  the  day  when  man  is  so  flung  out  into  his  o-«ti  tempta- 
tions ;  and  the  woman,  no  matter  who  she  may  be, — crowned 
queen  or  lowly  peasant, — the  first  or  the  last  in  the  land, — 
is  waiting  in  trepidation,  not  knowing  the  horn"  when,  upon 
some  infamous  accusation,  the  wiit  of  divorce  may  be  put 
into  her  hand,  and  she,  the  mother  of  childi'en,  be  ordered  to 
go  forth,  that  her  place  may  be  given  to  another ! 

Is  there  any  agency  to  make  men  honest  ?  No ;  they  can- 
not do  it.  A  man  plunders,  to-day  j  steals  with  privy  hand  ; 
enriches  himself  unla-vx-fulh^,  unjustly,  shamefully ; — and,  to- 
morrow, he  goes  to  some  revival,  or  some  camp-meeting,  and 
there  he  blesses  the  Lord  in  a  loud  voice,  proclaiming  to  his 
admiring  friends  that  he  "  has  found  the  Lord ! "  But  is 
there  any  agency  to  stop  him,  and  say  :    **  Hold,*my  friend, 


152  FA  TREE  B  UREE'S  DISCO  UBSES. 

wait  for  a  moment !  Have  you  made  restitution  to  the  last 
farthing  for  what  you  unjustly  acquired  ?  Have  you  shaken 
out  that  Judas  purse  of  yours,  until  the  last  dime — the  very 
last  piece  of  silver  for  which  you  sold  your  soul  to  hell — has 
gone  back  again  to  those  from  whom  it  was  taken  f  If  not, 
speak  not  of  finding  Christ ! — speak  not  of  leaning  upon  the 
Lord  !  Blaspheme  not  the  God  of  justice  ! "  Is  there  any 
agency  outside  of  the  Catholic  Church  to  sift  a  man  like  this'^ 
Is  there  any  such  agency  at  all  ?  No  :  we  live  in  an  age  of 
shams — of  pretences ;  and  the  worst  shams  of  all — the  vilest — 
the  foulest  pretences  of  all — are  those  we  find  in  the  so-called 
'^  religious  world."  Take  up  yoiu'  religious  newspapers ;  take 
up  your  religious  publications,  outside  of  the  Catholic  Chvu'ch. 
I  protest  it  is  more  than  common  sense  or  human  patience 
can  bear !  If  the  great  Clun-ch  of  the  living  God  were  not 
in  the  midst  of  you,  unchanging  in  truth — ever  faithful  in 
every  commission — clothed  in  the  freshness  of  her  first  sanc- 
tity, and  sanctif}dng  all  who  come  within  her  sacramental 
influence  ; — if  she  were  not  here  as  the  city  of  God,  this  so- 
called  ''  religious  world  "  would  bring  down  the  TVTatli  of  God, 
calculated,  as  its  antics  are,  to  bring  the  Lord  Himself  into 
contempt ;  exciting  the  pity  of  angels,  the  anger  of  heaven, 
and  the  joy  of  hell. 

A  recent  writer,  wdio  has  devoted  some  attention  to  the 
consideration  of  the  question  of  religious  indilierence,  asks — 
"  Why  are  the  chm'ches  empty  ?  How  is  it  that  the  intellec- 
tual men  of  the  day  do  not  like  to  listen  to  sermons  ?  How  is 
it  that  they  take  no  interest  in  the  things  of  the  Church  ? 
How  is  it  that  they  have  no  belief?"  And  a  wise  voice — a 
pious  voice — answers  :  "  Because,  my  friend,  you  do  not  know 
how  to  preach  to  them.  If  you  want  to  captivate  the  intel- 
lect of  the  men  of  our  day ; — if  you  want  to  interest  them — if 
you  want  to  convince  them — do  not  be  clinging  to  antiquated 
traditions ; — do  not  rest  upon  these  so-called  doctrines  of  a 
bygone  tiuie.  Eead  scientific  books.  Find  there  the  pro- 
blems that  are  bursting  up  continually  from  modern  science, 
and  try  to  reconcile  your  ideas  of  religion  with  those  ; — and, 
then,  preach  to  them  !  Thei>  will  you  show  yourself  a  man  of 
the  age — a  man  of  progress !  "  And  so,  henceforth,  the  sub- 
ject-matter of  our  semions  is  to  be  electric  telegraphs,  sub- 
marine cables,  and  flying  ships.  "  If  you  want  to  learn  how 
most  efi"ectively  to  preach/'  adds  this  wise  and  able  voice, 


THE  CATHOLIC  MISSION.  153 

^^read  the  latest  novels,  and  try  to  learn  from  them  all  the 
by-ways  and  high-ways  of  the  Imman  heart."  See  how  deli- 
cately they  follow  all  the  chit-chat  of  society, — all  the  little 
gossipings,  and  love-makings  and  the  thousand-and-one  in- 
fluences that  act  upon  the  adulterous  and  depraved  heart ,  of 
man — the  wicked  passions  of  man.  This  is  the  text  from 
which  the  preacher  of  to-day  is  to  preach  if  he  wishes  to  at- 
tract the  intellect  of  the  world.  And  all  this  in  the  very 
sight,  and  under  the  shadow  of  the  Cross  of  Christ,  who  died 
for  man !  Was  ever  blasphemy  so  terrible  ?  And  this  is 
what  is  called  "  religion  "  by  the  world  !  Not  a  word  about 
Divine  truth  5  not  a  word  about  Divine  grace  !  In  one  of 
the  leading  journals  of  New  York — an  able  papex — a  well- 
written  paper — in  a  leading  article  of  that  paper,  this  very 
morning,  I  read  a  long  dissertation  on  this  very  question  of 
preaching  and  preachers  j — and  the  word  "  truth  "  appeared 
only  once  in  that  article ; — and  then  it  came  under  the  title  of 
"  scientific  truth."  The  word  ''  grace "  did  not  occur  even 
once.  But  never,  even  once,  did  simple  ''truth"  occm' — or 
even  "  religious  trutli "  flash  across  the  mind  of  the  able, 
temperate-minded,  judicious  man  that  TVTote  it !  And  I  do 
not  blame  him, — for  he  was  wTiting  for  the  age  !  He  was 
giving  a  very  fair  idea  of  what  the  world  is,  and  what  the 
world  is  sure  to  come  to,  if  the  Almighty  God,  in  His  mercy, 
does  not  touch  the  hearts  of  men,  and  give  them  enough  of 
sense  to  turn  to  the  Catholic  Church,  and  hear  the  voice  of 
God — the  Divine  spouse  of  Christ  in  her  teachings.  With- 
out this  voice  they  cannot  hear  the  voice  of  God.  Without 
her  teaching,  this  hardened,  dried-up  heart  of  man  will  never 
grow  into  purity  or  love. 

Now  we  come  to  the  mission  that  you  and  I  have.  Grand 
as  is  the  vision  that  rises  before  our  eyes,  when  we  contem- 
plate the  heavenl}'-  beauty  and  graces  of  otir  great  and 
mighty  Mother,  the  Church,  who  has  never  told  a  lie,  nor 
ever  compromised  or  kept  back  the  least  portion  of  the  eter- 
nal and  saving  tnith  which  mankind  shotild  know  j  who 
has  never  tolerated  the  slightest  sin,  but  to  king  and  peasant 
has  said  alike  :  ''Be  pure,  be  faithful,  or  I  will  cut  you  off 
as  a  rotten  branch,  and  cast  you  into  hell," — grand,  I  say,  as 
is  the  spectacle  of  this  gloiious  Church, — wonderful  and  cim- 
vincing  as  are  her  claims  to  every  man's  faith  and  every 
man's  obedience, — if  the  advocacy  of  these  claims  were  left 


154  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

to  me,  and  to  such  as  I  am,  and  to  the  Fathers,  the  world 
would  scarcely  ever  be  converted.  You  have  your  niisision, 
my  dear  young  friends, — children  of  the  Church  of  God  j 
you  have  your  mission, — not  as  preachers,  indeed  j  yet,  far 
move  eloquent  than  the  voice  of  any  preacher,  in  the  silent 
force  of  example, — the  example  that  you  must  give  to  those 
around  you  ;  forcing  the  most  unwilling  and  reluctant  to  look 
upon  you  and  to  see  in  3'ou,  shining  forth,  the  glories  of  your 
divine  religion.  "  Sic  lux  Iticeat  omni  nmndo"  He  did  not 
say  to  all,  ^'  Go  and  preach  "  :  only  to  the  Twelve.  But  to 
all  of  them  He  said  :  '^  Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men, 
that,  seeing  your  work,  they  may  give  glory  to  God  who  is 
in  Heaven.''  And  so  I  say  to  you,  let  your  light  shine 
calmly  but  brightly,  that  all  men  may  see  you,  and  thus 
give  glory  to  your  Mother  the  Church,  triumphant  in  Heaven 
and  militant  for  you  on  earth.  It  is  your  mission  to  avow, 
bravely,  manfully, — however  temperately,  yet  firm  as  the 
adamantine  rock, — every  sacred  principle  of  Catholicity,  and 
every  iota  of  the  teaching  of  that  Chm'ch,  w^hen  she  teaches 
a  law ;  because  her  destiny  is  to  be  the  embodiment  of  truth 
in  this  world.  ^'  With  the  heart  we  believe  unto  justice.'' 
But  that  is  not  enough ;  with  the  mouth  we  must  make  loud 
confession  unto  salvation  : — loud  confession  !  Why  ?  Be- 
cause the  devil  is  making  a  loud  act  of  Ms  faith,  filling  the 
world  vni\i  it,  bringing  it  out  everywhere,  in  books,  in  news- 
papers, in  speeches,  in  associations,  in  schools,  in  the  public 
academies,  in  the  univei^sities,  in  the  halls  of  medicine  and  of 
law ;  in  the  courts,  in  the  senate ; — it  is  the  one  cry — the  harsh, 
grating  cry  by  which  the  devil  makes  his  act  of  detestable 
faith  in  hmiself,  and  denial  of  God ; — an  act  of  diabolical 
faith  that  meets  us  at  every  turn, — strikes  and  offends  every 
sense  of  ours  with  its  temble  language.  We  cannot  take 
up  a  book  that,  if  we  do  not  find  a  satyr  peering  out  from  its 
pages,  is  not  the  bald,  stark  daub  of  some  fool,  who  flings  his 
smut  or  his  infidelit}^  into  the  sight  of  God.  We  cannot 
turn  to  a  public  journal  that  is  not  a  record  of  plundering,  of 
villany,  of  robbeiy,  and  murders  and  thefts  and  defalcations. 
Why,  what  would  a  dictionary  of  this  day  of  ours  look  like? 
It  would  be  filled  with  modern  names, — page  after  page, — 
for  these  modern  sins,  of  which  our  honest  forefathers  scarcely 
knew  anything  j — these  sins,  the  embodiment  of  the  practical 
immorality  of  the  apostate  monk  of  Wmtemburg.     We  must 


THE  CATHOLIC  MISSION.  155 

oppose  this  terrible  exliibitioii  of  evil  whicli  the  devil  makes 
ill  our  p\iblic  streets,  and  throughout  every  organ  that  comes 
before  us,  not  only  by  the  strong  assertion  of  our  holy  faith, 
but  by  the  silent  and  eloquent  example  of  our  purity  of  life, 
our  uprightness  and  cleanliness  of  heart.  And  therefore  it  is 
that,  in  truth,  never  perhaps  before  was  the  Word  of  the  Lord 
so  well  fulfilled  in  the  children  of  the  Catholic  Chm'ch,  as  to- 
day, ^\hen  He  said:  ^^  You  are  the  salt  of  the  earth.''  And  so 
they  are  the  salt  of  the  earth  throughout  the  world.  How 
much  more  in  this  great  country,  where  we  are,  as  it  were, 
in  the  Spring-time,  only  breaking  up  the  ground  and  throw- 
ing in  the  seed  from  which,  one  hundred-fold,  the  fiiiit  mil 
come  when  we  are  lying  in  our  cold,  forgotten  graves.  The 
seedlings  that  we  sow  to-day  of  Catholic  faith,  of  Catholic 
purity,  of  Catholic  truth,  will  grow  up  into  a  fruit  and  an 
abundance  so  grand,  so  magnificent,  that,  perhaps,  it  is  given 
to  us  that  the  ultimate  glory  of  the  Church  of  God  shall  be 
the  work  of  our  hands  and  of  om'  lives  to-day.  It  is  a  great 
thing  to  Ifve  in  tlie  Spring-time  of  a  nation;  it  is  a  great  thing 
to  find  one's  self  at  the  fountain  head  of  a  stream  of  mighty 
national  existence  that  will  swell  -wHith  -every  age,  gaining 
momentum  as  it  rolls  on  with  the  flood  of  time.  It  is  a  great 
thing  to  lie  at  the  fountain-head  of  that  stream.  It  is  said 
with  truth — 

"  The  pebble  on  the  sti'eamlet's  brink 

Has  changed  the  course  of  many  a  river; 
The  dew-di'op  on  the  acorn-leaf 
May  warp  the  giant  oak  for  ever." 

The  river  of  America's  nationality  and  existence  is  only 
beginning  to  flow  to-day  ;  and  we  should  endeavor  to  direct 
it  into  the  current  of  Catholicity.  The  young  oak  which  is 
pLanted  to-day,  and  which  will,  in  all  probability,  overshadow 
and  overspread  the  whole  earth,  was  but  lately  hidden  in. 
the  acorn-cup.  Ah,  let  us  remember,  that  even  a  pebble  in 
the  hand  of  the  youth  David,  hurled  against  Goliah,  struck 
down  the  giant.  Let  us  be  the  pebble  in  the  hand  of  God 
that  shall  strike  down  this  demon — this  proud,  presum})tuous 
demon  of  infidelity  that  has  entered  into  the  land,  and  taking 
'' seizing"  of  the  whole  continent  of  Anierica,  says:  ''This 
soil  must  be  mine."  Let  us  be  as  the  pebble  in  the  mountain 
brook,  which  turns  the  stream  that  will  one  day  be  a  mighty 
river,   into  the   frreat   bed  of   Catholic  truth   and   Catholic 


156  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

pnrity,  that  alone  can  save  this  land.  Let  us  be  as  the 
dew-drop  on  the  acorn  leaf, — the  dew-drop  of  Catholic  faith, 
of  Catholic  intelligence,  and  Catholic  morality  ;  the  tear,  as 
it  were,  flowing-  from  the  pitying  eye  of  tlie  Saviour,  upon  the 
young,  sprouting  oak  of  human  existence,  training  it  towards 
heaven — sending  it  to  heaven  in  the  national  aspiration,  in 
the  national  action,  and  not  permitting  it  to  be  dragged  and 
warped,  in  this  way  and  that,  until  it  lies  a  stunted  and  mis- 
begotten plant,  clinging  to  the  earth,  into  which  it  will  fling 
its  leaves  5  its  tnuik  stunted  and  Avithered,  conveying  no  sap 
but  the  sap  of  religious  bigotry  and  intolerance,  and  the 
bitterest  juices  of  foolish  sectarianism;  of  absurd,  blind  folly, 
exciting  the  laughter  of  all  sensible  men  upon  the  earth,  the 
indignation  of  God,  and  the  joy  of  hell.  This  is  om'  mission. 
Say,  will  you  fulfil  it  ?  Say,"^  0  Catholic  young  men,  will 
you  fulfil  it  ?  You  cannot  fulfil  it  without  being  thorough- 
going Catholics  ;  you  cannot  fulfil  it  without  being  joined, 
heart  and  soul,  with  the  Church,  through  the  Churcli's  head 
— through  the  immutable  rock — the  supreme  governor — the 
infallible  teacher  of  God's  infallible  Church.  You  cannot 
fulfil  this  mission  until  you  join,  with  that  rivalry  of  Chris- 
tian self-denial,  the  rivalry  of  Christian  purity,  and  a  holy 
horror  of  every  thing  hollow  and  pretentious — a  holy  horror 
of  shams.  There  are  no  shams  in  the  Catholic  Church; 
there  is  nothing  but  shams — religious  shams — outside  of  her. 
You  cannot  fulfil  this  mission  unless  you  seek  to  sanctify 
3^our  hearts  and  your  lives,  and  to  sweeten  those  lives  by 
prayer,  by  confession,  and  communion ;  and  I  congratulate 
you,  that,  in  facing  this  mission,  which  lies  before  every 
Catholic  man,  you  do  it,  not  as  individuals,  but  as  a  body, 
as  an  organization.  We  live  in  an  age  of  organizations. 
There  is  nothing  everywhere  but  organizations,  for  this  thing, 
or  for  that :  and  nearly  all  of  them  belong  to  the  devil.  It 
is  fitting  that  Christ,  our  Lord,  should  have  His.  It  is  fitting 
that  the  Church  should  have  hers.  You  are  banded 
together  in  the  name  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour.  You  remem- 
ber that,  in  the  Gospel  of  last  Sunday,  the  Evangelist  tells 
us — "These  things  are  written  that  all  men  may  believe 
that  the  Lord  Jesus  is  Christ,  the  Son  of  God ;  and  that, 
believing,  they  may  have  life  in  His  name."  In  His  name 
you  are  assembled  together,  bound  by  common  hopes,  by 
a  common  purpose,  which,  without  interfering  at  allwithyour 


THE  CATHOLIC  MISSION.  157 

daily  duties,  or  your  individual  liberty,  still  binds  you  together 
in  a  unity  of  thouo'lit,  of  opinion,  and  of  purpose,  to  act  on 
this  great  mass  of  society,  in  which  our  mission  lies — yours 
and  mine ; — mine  in  the  Word,  mine  in  labor,  mine  in  undi- 
vided thought,  for  that  and  nothing  but  that, — or  else  I  also 
would  be  a  sham ; — yours  in  the  manner  of  which  I  have 
spoken  to  you.  And  you  are  banded  together  under  the 
guidance  of  those  religious  men  whom  the  Church  honors  by 
pemiitting  them  to  take  the  glorious  name  of  Jesus  as  their 
own; — of  those  men  who,  for  three  hundred  years,  have  led 
the  van  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church  in  that  mighty  warfare 
that  is  going  on,  which  makes  the  Church  a  militant  church; 
— of  those  men  whose  ffithers  before  them — the  Saints — 
received  fii'st  every  blow  that  was  intended  to  strike  at  the 
heart  of  the  Chiu'ch  ; — of  those  men  who  are  known  among 
the  religious  Orders  of  the  Church,  and  represent  the  Saviour 
in  His  risen  glory ;  for  they  rose  again  at  the  command  of 
the  Sovereign  Pontiff; — of  those  men  whose  name  is  kno\vn 
in  every  land  ; — loved  with  the  ardor  of  Catholic  love;  hated 
and  detested  with  the  first  and  most  intense  hatred  of  every 
man  that  hates  the  glorious  and  immaculate  Chm'ch  of 
Christ ; — of  those  men  who,  for  three  hundred  years,  have 
trained  and  led  the  young  intellect  of  Christendom^ — have 
stamped  upon  eveiy  young  heart  that  ever  came  under  their 
hands,  the  sacred  name  and  the  sacred  love  which  is  their 
own  title  and  their  most  glorious  crown.  And,  therefore,  I 
congratulate  you  with  hope, — and  a  high  and  well-assured 
hope, — that  all  that  God  intends,  all  that  the  Church  expects 
at  your  hands,  in  this  glorious  missionary  Society ; — that — 
all  that — you  will  give  to  God  and  to  His  Church,  so  as  to 
enable  Him  to  repay  you,  ten  thousand-fold,  in  glory,  in  the 
kingdom  of  His  everlasting  joy. 


THE  CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  CATHOLIC 
CHURCH. 

I A  Lecture  delivered  by  Very  Rev.  T.  N.  BurTce,  O.P.,  in  the  Academy  of 
Music,  Brooklyn,  April  24,  1872.] 

We  are  assembled  tliis  evening,  mj^  dear  friends,  to  con- 
template tlie  greatest  work  of  all  the  works  that  the  Almighty- 
God  ever  created— namely,  "  The  Constitution  of  the  Holy 
Catholic  Chm'ch."  In  every  work  of  God  it  has  been  well 
observed  that  the  Creatoi^'s  mind  shows  itself  in  the  wonder- 
ful harmon}^  that  we  behold  in  it.  Therefore  the  poet  has 
justly  said  that  ^^  Order  is  Heaven's  firet  law."  But  if  this 
be  true  of  earthly  things,  how  much  more  does  the  harmony 
of  God, — in  the  order  which  is  the  very  expression  of  the 
Divine  mind, — come  forth  and  appear  when  we  come  to 
contemjdate  the  glorious  Chm'ch  which  Christ  fii'st  founded 
npon  this  earth.  The  glorious  Chm'ch  I  call  her,  and  in  using 
those  w^ords  I  only  quote  the  inspired  Scriptures  of  God : 
for  we  are  told  that  this  Church,  which  Christ,  the  Lord, 
established,  is  a  glorious  Church,  ^^ithont  spot  or  wiinkle,  or 
defect  of  any  Idnd ;  but  all-perfect,  all-glorious,  and  fit  to  be 
what  He  intended  her  to  be — the  Immaculate  Spouse  of  the 
Son  of  God. 

Now,  that  our  Divine  Redeemer  intended  to  establish 
such  a  Chm'ch  upon  the  earth  is  patent  from  the  repeated 
words  of  the  Lord  Himself ;  for  it  will  a[)pear  that  one  of 
the  strongest  intentions  that  was  in  the  mind  of  the  Re- 
deemer, and  one  of  the  primary  conceptions  of  His  Tvisdom, 
Mas  to  establish  npon  this  earth  a  Chm'ch,  of  w^iich  He  speaks, 
over  and  over  again,  sajdng :  "  I  will  build  My  Chm^ch  so 
that  the  gates  of  Hell  shall  never  prevail  against  it : "  "  He 
that  will  not  hear  the  voice  of  the  Church,  let  him  be  as  if 
lie  were  a  heathen  or  a  publican."  And  so  throughout  the 
Gospel,  we  find  the  Son  of  God  again  and  again  alluding 
to  His  Church,  proclaiming  what  that  Chm'ch  was  to  be, 
and  setting  upon  her  the  signs  by  wliich  all  men  were  to 


THE  COXSTITUTIOX  OF  THE  CHURCH.  159 

know  her  as  a  patent  and  self-evident  fact  among  tlie  nations 
of  the  world,  until  the  end  of  time.  And  -what  idea  does  our 
Lord  give  us  of  His  Church  ?  He  tells  us,  first  of  all, — and 
tells  us  over  and  over  again, — that  His  Church  is  to  be  a 
kingdom,-  and  He  calls  it — ^^  My -kingdom."  And  else- 
where, in  repeated  portions  of  the  Grospel,  He  speaks  of  it  as 
*' the  kingdom  of  God."  One  time  He  says,  "The  king- 
dom of  God  is  like  unto  a  city,  which  was  built  upon  the 
mountain  side,  so  that  all  men  might  behold  it."  And 
again  :  '•  The  kingdom  of  God  is  like  unto  a  candle  set  up- 
on a  candlestick,  so  that  it  might  shed  its  light  throughout 
the  whole  house,  and  that  every  one  entering  the  house  might 
behold  it."  And  again  :  "  The  kingdom  of  God  is  like  un- 
to a  net  cast  out  into  the  sea,  and  sweeping  in  all  that  come  in 
its  way — both  good  and  bad."  And  so,  throughout,  Christ 
always  speaks  of  His  Chm'ch  as  a  Kingdom  that  He  was  to 
establish  upon  this  earth.  Wlien,  therefore,  any  meditative, 
thoughtful  man  reads  the  Scriptures  reverently,  dispassion- 
ately, Anthout  a  film  of  prejudice  over  his  eyes,  he  must  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  Christ,  beyond  all,  founded  a  spiritual 
kingdom  upon  this  earth;  and  that  that  kingdom  was  so 
founded  as  to  be  easily  recognized  by  all  men. 

Now,  if  we  once  let  into  our  minds  the  idea  that  the  Church 
of  Christ  is  a  kingdom,  we  must  at  once  admit  in  the  Church 
an  organization  which  is  necessary  for  every  kingdom  upon 
this  earth.  And  what  is  the  first  element  of  a  nation  I  I 
answer  that  the  first  element  of  a  nation  is  to  have  a  head  or 
ruler, — call  him  what  you  will — elect  him  as  you  will.  Is 
it  a  Republic  ?  it  must  have  a  President.  Is  it  a  Monarchy? 
it  must  have  its  King.  Is  it  an  Empire  ?  it  must  have  its 
Emperor :  and  so  on.  But  the  moment  you  imagine  a  state 
or  kingdom  of  any  kind  W'ithout  a  head,  that  moment  you 
destroy  out  of  your  mind  the  very  idea  of  a  State  united  for 
certain  purposes  and  governed  by  cei-tain  laws.  That  head 
of  the  nation  must  be  the  supreme  tribunal  of  the  nation. 
From  him,  in  his  executive  office,  all  subordinate  officers  liold 
their  power ;  and,  even,  though  he  be  elected  by  the  people 
and  chosen  from  among  the  people,  the  moment  he  is  set  at 
the  head  of  the  state  or  nation,  that  moment  he  is  the  repre- 
sentative or  embodiment  of  tlje  fountain  of  authority.  Every 
one  wielding  power  within  that  nation  must  bow  to  him. 
Every  one    exercising  jurisdiction    within    the    nation  must 


160  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

derive  it  from  him.  He,  I  say  again,  may  derive  it,  even 
from  the  choice  of  the  people ;  but,  when  he  is  thus  elevated, 
he  forms  one  unit,  to  which  every  thing  in  the  State  is  bound 
to  h)ok  up.  This  is  the  very  first  idea  and  notion  which  the 
word  State  or  Kingdom  involves. 

It  follows,  therefore,  that,  if  the  Church  founded  by  Christ 
be  akingd(mi,  the  Church  must  have  a  head;  and,  if  you  can 
imagine  a  Church  without  a  head,  yet  retaining  its  consistency, 
its  strength,  its  unity,  and  its  usefulness,  for  any  purpose  for 
wdiich  it  was  created,  you  can  imagine  a  thing  that  it  is  im- 
possible to  my  mind,  or  to  the  mind  of  any  reasonable  man, 
to  conceive.  Luther  imagined  it,  when  he  broke  up  the 
nations  of  the  earth  with  his  Protestant  heresy  ;  when  he  rent 
asunder  the  sacred  garment  of  unity  that  girded  the  fair  form 
of  the  holy  Church,  the  spouse  of  God.  Yet  even  he,  when 
he  broke  up  the  Church,  was  obliged  to  maintain  the  prin- 
ciple of  headship.  The  Cliurch  of  England  had  her  head; 
the  Church  of  Denmark  had  her  head;  that  is  to  say,  her 
fountain  of  jurisdiction,  her  ruling  authority,  the  existence 
of  which,  in  all  these  States,  we  see,  with  at  least  the  appear- 
ance of  religion,  kept  up — the  phantasm  of  a  real  Church. 
It  is  true,  my  friends,  when  yon  ccmie  to  analyze  these  differ- 
ent heads  that  spring  up  in  the  different  Protestant  Churches 
in  the  various  countries  of  Europe,  we  shall  find  some 
amongst  them,  that  I  believe  here,  in  America,  would  be 
called  '^  sore-heads."  Henry  the  Eighth  was  a  remarkable 
sore-head.  Perhaps,  if  he  had  got  a  good  combing  from  the 
Almighty  God,  in  this  world,  he  would  not  get  so  bad  a 
combing  as  he  is,  in  all  probability,  receiving  where  he 
now  is. 

We  next  come  to  the  question :  Who  is  the  head  of  the 
Church  of  Christ?  Who  is  the  ruler?  Before  I  answer  this 
question,  my  friends,  I  will  ask  you  to  rise,  in  imagination, 
to  the  grandeur  of  the  idea  that  fills  the  mind  with  the  thought 
of  the  unfathomable  wisdom  of  God,  when  He  was  la3nng, 
and  sinking  deeply  into  the  earth,  the  foundations  of  His 
Church.  What  purpose  had  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  in  view, 
that  He  should  establish  the  Chm'ch  at  all  ?  He  answers, 
and  tells  us  plainly,  that  He  had  two  distinct  purposes  in 
view,  and  that  it  was  the  destiny  of  the  Church  which  He 
was  about  to  found,  to  make  these  purposes  known  and  cany 
them  out,  and  with  the  extension  of  them  to  spread  herself, 


THE  CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  CHURCH.  IGl 

and  be  faithful  to  them  unto  the  consummation  of  the  world. 
What  -were  these  })urposes?  The  first  of  tliese  was  to  en- 
ligliten  the  world  and  dispel  darkness  by  tlie  lig-lit  of  her 
teaching's.  Wherefore  He  said  to  His  Apostles  :  *'  You  are 
the  liii'ht  of  the  world.  Let  your  light  so  shine  bef  )re  men, 
that  all  men  may  see  yom*  works,  and  seeing  yon  may  give 
glory  to  your  Father,  who  is  in  heaven.'^  '^  You  are  the  light 
of  the  world,"  He  says.  "A  man  does  not  light  a  candle 
and  put  it  under  a  bushel ;  but  sets  it  upon  a  candlestick, 
that  it  may  illuminate  the  whole  house,  and  that  all  men 
entering  may  behold  it.  So  I  say  unto  you,  you  are  the 
light  of  the  world  and  the  illumination  of  all  ages." 

This  was  the  fii'st  purpose  for  which  Chiist  founded  His 
Cliurcli.  The  world  was  in  darlvuess.  Every  light  had 
beamed  upon  it,  but  in  vain.  The  light  of  pagan  philosophy, 
even  the  highest  human  knowledge,  had  beamed  forth  from 
Plato,  and  from  the  philosophers  ;  but  it  was  unable  to  pene- 
trate the  thick  veil  that  overshadowed  the  intellect  and  the 
genius  of  men,  and  to  illumine  that  intelligence  with  one  ray 
of  celestial  or  divine  truth.  The  light  of  genius  had  beamed 
upon  it.  The  noblest  works  of  art  this  earth  ever  beheld 
were  raised  before  the  admiring  eyes  of  the  pagans  of  the 
world.  But  neither  the  pencil  of  Praxiteles,  nor  the  chisel 
of  Phidias,  bringing  forth  the  highest  forms  of  artistic  beauty, 
was  able  to  elevate  the  mind  of  the  pagan  to  one  pure 
thought  of  the  God  who  made  him.  Every  human  light  had 
tried  in  vain  to  dispel  this  thick  cloud  of  darkness.  The 
light  of  God  alone  could  do  it  j  and  that  light  came  with 
Jesus  Christ  in  heaven.  W^herefore  He  said  :  ^'  I  am  the 
light  of  the  world."  And  "  in  Him,"  says  the  Evangelist, 
"  was  Life,  and  the  Life  was  the  light  of  men." 

The  next  mission  of  the  Church  was  not  only  to  illumine 
the  darkness,  but  to  heal  the  coiTuption  of  the  world,  which 
had  grown  literally  rotten  in  the  festering  of  its  own  spiritual 
ulcers,  imtil  every  form  that  human  crime  can  take  was  not 
only  established  amongst  men,  but  acknowledged  amongst 
them, — crowned  amongst  them  j  not  only  acknowledged  and 
avowed,  but  actually  lifted  up  upon  their  altars  and  deified  in 
the  midst  of  them ;  so  that  men  were  taught  to  adore  as  a 
god,  the  shameful  impersonation  of  their  own  licentiousness, 
debauchery,  and  sin.  Terrible  was  the  moral  condition  of  the 
world  when  the  hand  of  an  angrj  God  was  forced  to  draw 


162  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

back  the  flood-gates  of  heaven  and  sweep  awa}^  the  corruption 
which  prevailed  through  the  flesh,  until  the  spiritual  God 
beheld  no  vestige  of  His  resemblance  left  in  man  !  Terrible 
was  the  corruption  when  the  same  hand  was  obliged  once 
more  to  be  put  forth,  and  down  from  heaven  came  a  rain  of 
living  fire,  and  burned  up  a  whole  nation,  because  they  were 
corrupt !  Terrible  was  the  corraption  when  the  Almighty 
God  called  upon  every  pure-minded  man  to  draw  the  sword, 
in  the  name  of  the  God  of  Israel,  and  smite  his  neighbor  and 
friend,  until  a  whole  nation  was  swept  away  from  out  the 
twelve  tribes  of  Israel!  Christ  was  sent  as  our  head;  and 
He  came  and  found  the  .world  one  festering  and  corrupt 
ulcerous  sore ;  and  He  laid  upon  it  the  saving  salve  of  His 
mercy,  and  declared  that  He  was  the  purifier  of  society. 
And  to  His  disciples  He  said  :  "  You  are  not  only  the  light  of 
the  world,  to  dispel  its  darkness ;  but  you  are  the  salt  of  the 
earthy  to  heal  and  sweeten  and  to  preserve  a  corrupt  and  a 
fallen  race  and  nature." 

This  is  the  second  great  mission  of  the  Church  of  God,  to 
heal  with  her  sacramental  touch,  to  purify  with  her  holy 
grace,  to  wipe  away  the  corruption  of  the  world,  and  to  pre- 
vent its  return  by  laying  the  healing  influence  of  Divine 
grace  there.  This  is  the  mission  of  the  Church  of  God — 
which  was  Christ's — to  be,  unto  the  end  of  time,  the  light  of 
the  world  and  the  salt  of  the  earth. 

Now,  from  this  twofold  ofiice  of  the  Church  of  God,  I  argue 
that  God  Himself — the  God  who  founded  her,  the  God  who 
established  her  in  so  much  glory  and  for  so  high  and  holy  a 
purpose,  the  God  who  made  her  and  created  her,  His  fairest 
and  most  beautiful  work ; — that  God  must  remain  with  her, 
and  be  her  true  head  unto  the  end  of  time.  And  why  !  Who 
is  the  light  of  the  world!  ''I  am,"  says  Christ.  Who  is 
the  pmifier  of  the  world  ?  "  I  am,"  responds  the  same  Christ. 
If  then,  thou,  Clirist,  be  the  purifier  of  the  earth  and  the  light 
of  the  world,  tell  us,  0  Master,  can  light,  or  grace,  or  purity 
come  from  any  other  source  than  Thee  f  He  answers :  "  No ; 
the  man  who  seeks  it  in  any  but  in  Me,  finds,  for  his  light, 
darkness;  and  for  his  healing,  corruption  and  death.  The 
man  who  plants  upon  any  other  soil  than  Me,  plants  indeed, 
but  the  heavenly  Fathei-'s  hand  shall  pluck  ,out  what  he 
plants."  Christ,  therefore,  is  the  true  head  of  His  Church, 
the  abiding  head  of  His  Church,  the  unfailing,  ever- watchful 


THE  CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  CHURCH.  163 

head  of  His  Church ;  and  is  as  much  to-day  the  head  of  the 
Church  as  He  was  eighteen  hundred  years  ago.  Christ  to- 
dav  is  the  real  head,  the  abiding  head.  He  arose  from  the  dead 
after  He  had  lain  three  days  in  darkness.  He  had  said  to  His 
Ajiostles  :  ^'  I  am  about  to  leave  you  ;  but  it  will  only  be  for 
a  little ;  a  little  while  and  you  shall  not  see  Me  any  more  ; 
but  after  a  very  little  while  you  shall  see  me  again.  I  will 
not  leave  you  orphans ;  1  will  come  to  you  again  ;  and  I  will 
remain  with  you  all  days  unto  the  consinnmation  of  the 
world."  Oh  !'  my  friends,  what  a  consoling  thought  is  this 
unfailing  promise  of  the  words  of  the  Redeemer !  Oh ! 
what  a  consolation  has  this  world  in  Him  who  said: 
*'  Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away,  but  My  Words ' 
shall  never  pass  away:  I  am  with  you  all  days  unto 
the  consummation  of  *the  world."  And  how  is  He  with 
us?  Is  He  with  us  visibly?  No.  Do  we  behold  Him 
with  our  eyes?  No.  Do  we  hear  His  own  immediate 
voice  ?  No*  Have  any  of  you  ever  seen  or  heard  Him, 
immediately  and  directly,  as  John  the  Evangelist  saw  Him 
when  He  was  upon  the  Cross ;  as  Mary  Magdalen  heard  Him 
when  He  said  to  her :  ^'  I  am  the  resuiTection  and  the  life  ! " 
No.  Yet  He  founded  a  visible  kingdom — a  kingdom  which 
was  to  be  set  upon  the  earth,  as  a  candle  set  upon  a  candle- 
stick. Therefore,  if  He  is  at  the  head  of  that  kingdom,-— if 
he  is  to  preside  over  it, — if  He  is  to  rule  and  govern  it,  a 
visible  kingdom.  He  must  show  Himself  visibly.  This  He 
does  not.  In  His  second  and  abiding  coming  He  hides  Him- 
self within  the  golden  gates  of  the"  Tabernacle  j  and  there 
He  abides  and  remains:  but  when  it  was  a  question  of 
governing  His  Chm'ch,  Christ,  our  Lord,  Himself  appointed 
a  visible  "head.  And  who  was  this?  He  called  twelve  men 
around  Him;  He  gave  them  power  and  jurisdiction;  He 
gave  them  the  glorious  mission  of  His  Apostles ;  He  gave 
them  a  communication  of  His  own  spirit;  He  gave  them 
inspiration.  He  breathed  His  Holy  Sj)irit,  the  Third  Person 
of  the  Blessed  Trinity,  upon  them ;  and  He  took  one  of  the 
twelve,  and  He  spoke  to  that  one  man  three  most  imi)ortant 
words.  Tliey  were  meant  lor  that  (me  man  alone ;  and  the 
proof  is  that  on  each  occasion  when  Christ  spoke  to  them, 
He  called  the  twelve  around  Him,  and  He  spoke  to  that  one 
man  alone  in  the  presence  of  the  other  eleven,  that  there 
might  be  eleven  witnesses  to  the  privileges  and  the  powers  of 


164  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

the  one.  Who  was  that  one  man  !  St.  Peter.  St.  Peter  was 
chosen  among  the  Apoe.tles ;  St.  Peter,  not  up  to  that  time 
the  one  that  was  most  loved ;  for  John  was  *'  the  disciple 
whom  Jesus  loved:"  St.  Peter  who,  more  than  any  of 
the  others,  was  reproved  by  his  Lord,  in  the  severest  terms ; 
St.  Peter,  who,  more  than  any  of  the  others,  who  were  faith- 
ful,— showed  his  weakness  until  the  confinning  power  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  came  upon  him; — Peter  was  the  one  chosen  ; 
and  here  are  the  three  words  which  Christ  spoke.  First  of 
all  He  said:  ^' Thou  art  Peter,  and  upon  this  Rock  I  shall 
hm'ld  My  Church."  Christ  heard  the  people  speaking  of 
Him,  and  He  said:  ^^  Whom  do  they  say  I  am?"  And  the 
Apostles  answered :  "  Lord,  some  of  them  say  you  are  Ellas 
or  Jeremias,  and  some  of  them  say  you  are  John  the  Baptist, 
and  some  say  you  are  a  prophet."  Then  Christ  asked  them 
solemnly:  ''Whom  do  you  say  I  am?"  Down  went  Peter 
on  his  knees,  and  cried  out :  "  Thou  art  Christ,  the  Son  of 
the  living  God."  Then  Christ,  our  Lord,  said  to  him : 
"  Blessed  art  thou,  Simon,  son  of  John,  because  flesh  and 
blood  hath  not  revealed  it  to  thee,  but  My  Father  who  is  in 
Heaven.  And  I  say  to  thee,  thou  art  Cephas,  and  upon  this 
rock  I  will  build  my  Church."  The  man  who  denies  to 
Peter  the  glorious  and  wonderful  privilege  of  being  the 
visible  foundation  underlying  the  Church  of  God  and  uphold- 
ing it,  is  untrue  to  Christ,  the  head  of  the  Church, 

The  second  word  the  Son  of  God  spoke  to  Peter  was  this : 
"  To  thee,  0  Peter,"  he  said,  in  the  presence  of  the  others, 
"  To  thee,  0  Peter,  will  I  give  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  Whatsoever  thou  shalt  bind  upon  earth  shall  be 
bound  in  heaven,  and  whatsoever  thou  shalt  loose  on  earth 
shall  be  loosed,  also,  in  heaven."  He  gave  His  promise  to 
them  all ;  but  to  Peter,  singly,  He  said  :  "  To  thee  do  I  give 
the  kej^s  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  That  is,  the  supreme 
power  over  the  Chm'ch.  On  another  occasion,  Christ,  our 
Lord,  spoke  to  Peter ;  and  the  others  were  present ;  and  He 
said  to  him :  "  Simon,  Simon,  the  devil  has  asked  for  thee, 
that  he  might  sift  thee  as  wheat.  But  I  have  prayed  for 
thee,  that  thy  faith  fail  not;  and  thou,  being  once  converted, 
confirm  thy  brethren."  Now,  any  man  who  denies  to  Peter, 
in  the  Church,  that  eternal  kingdom  that  is  never  to  come  to 
an  end,  and,  to  Peter  and  his  successors,  the  power  over  his 
brethi-en,  to  confinn  them  in  the  faith  which  shall  never  fail, 


THE  CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  CHURCH.  165 

— in  the  faith  which  was  the  subject  of  tlie  prayer  of  the  Son 
of  God  to  His  Father  5 — any  man  wlio  denies  tliis  supremacy 
of  Peter  gives  the  lie  to  Jesus  Christ. 

On  another  solemn  occasion,  tlie  Son  of  God  spohe  to  Peter, 
when  He  was  preparing  to  hid  His  Apostles  and  disci}des  a 
last  farewell.  They  had  seen  Him  crucified  ;  they  had  seen 
liim  lie  disfigured,  mangled,  in  the  silent  tomh.  From  that 
tomb,  with  a  power  which  was  all  His  own.  He  rose,  like  the 
lightning  of  God,  to  the  heavens,  sending  before  Him,  howl- 
ing and  shrieking,  all  the  demons  of  hell,  conquered  and 
sulxhied.  Now,  His  Apostles  were  gathered  together. 
Suddenly  a  flash  lights  up  the  heavens,  and  He  appears 
in  their  midst.  Then  He  goes  straight  to  Peter,  and  He 
"Says :  Simon  Peter,  do  you  love  Me  more  than  these  ?  Peter 
said:  "Yea,  Lord,^Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee.'^  Then 
He  said  to  Him  :  "  Feed  my  lambs."  A  second  time,  after 
a  pause,  tlie  Son  of  God  said :  ^'  Simon,  son  of  John,  lovest 
thou  Me?"  Peter  said:  "  Lord,  Thou  knowest  that  I  love 
Thee."  Again  He  said  to  him:  "Feed  my  lambs."  Another 
pause,  and  a  third  time  He  said  to  him  :  "  Simon,  son  of 
John,  lovest  thou  IMe  more  than  these  ?  "  And  then  Peter, 
bursting  into  tears,  said  :  "  Lord,  Thou  knowest  all  things — 
Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee."  Then  said  the  Redeemer, 
"Feed  My  sheep."  Elsewhere  the  same  Redeemer  had  said, 
"  There  shall  be  one  fold  and  one  shepherd,"  and  He  laid 
His  hand  on  the  head  of  Peter  and  said :  "  Thou  art  Peter, 
the  son  of  John,  be  thou  the  shepherd  of  the  one  fold  : — feed 
My  lambs  ]  feed  My  sheep."  He  who  denies,  therefore,  to 
Peter,  and  to  Peter's  successor,  whoever  he  is,  the  one  head- 
ship, the  one  office  of  shepherd  in  the  one  fold  of  God,  gives 
the  lie  to  Jesus  Christ,  the  God  of  Truth. 

The  day  of  the  Ascension  came.  For  forty  days  did  Christ 
remain  discoursing  with  His  Apostles,  instructing  them  con- 
cerning the  kingdom  of  God.  And  when  the  forty  days  were 
over,  He  led  them  forth  from  Jerusalem,  into  the  silent, 
beautiful  mountain  of  Olives  ;  and  there,  as  they  were  gathered 
around  Him,  and  He  was  speaking  to  them  and  telling  them 
of  things  concerning  the  Kingdom  of  God — that  is,  the 
Church, — slowly,  wonderfully,  mjijestically,  they  beheld  His 
figure  rise  from  the  earth ;  and  as  it  rose  above  their  heads  it 
caught  a  new  glory  and  splendor  that  was  shed  down  upon  it 
from  the  broken  and  the  rent  heavens  above.     They  followed 


166  FA  THEB  B  UBKE'S  DISCO  UBSES. 

Him  with  their  eyes.  They  saw  him  pass  from  ring-  to 
ring  of  light.  Their  ears  canght  the  music  of  the  nine  choirs 
of  heaven,  of  millions  of  angels,  who,  from  the  clonds,  saluted 
the  coming  Lord.  They  strained  their  eyes  and  their  hands 
after  Him.  They  lifted  up  their  voices,  saying,  as  Eliseus 
did  of  old  to  Elias  j  "  Oh !  Thou  chariot  of  Israel,  and  its 
charioteer  !  wilt  Thou  leave  ns  ?  "  And  from  the  clouds  that 
were  surrounding  Him  He  waved  to  them  His  last  blessing,- 
and  their  streaming  eyes  canght  the  last  lustre  and  brightness 
of  His  figure,  as  it  disappeared  in  the  empyrean  of  heaven, 
and  was  caught  up  to  the  Throne  of  God.  Then  an  Angel 
flashed  into  their  presence,  and  said :  ''  Ye  men  of  Galilee, 
why  stand  }'e  here  looking  up  to  heaven  ?  This  Jesus,  who 
is  taken  up  into  heaven,  shall  so  come  as  you  have  seen  Hin> 
going  into  heaven."  And  the  other  disciples  bent  theu'  knees 
to  Peter,  the  living  representative  of  the  supremacy,  the 
truth,  and  the  purity  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Henceforth  the  life  of  Peter,  and  of  Peter's  successors, 
became  the  great  leading  light  around  which,  and  towards 
which,  the  whole  history  of  the  world  revolved.  It  became 
the  central  point  to  which  every  thing  upon  this  earth  must 
tend  5  because,  in  the  designs  of  God,  the  things  of  time  are 
but  for  the  things  of  eternity ;  and  Peter,  in  being  the  repre- 
sentative and  viceroy  of  the  Son  of  God  upon  earth — in  the 
external  headship  and  government  of  the  Chm'ch — was  the 
only  man  who  came  nearest  to  God,  who  had  most  of  God  in 
him,  and  most  of  God  in  his  power — in  the  distribution  of 
His  grace,  in  the  attributes  that  belong  to  the  Saviour — and, 
consequently,  became  the  first  and  highest  and  greatest  of 
men,  and  the  only  man  that  w^as  necessary  in  this  world. 

For  many  long  and  w^eary  years  Peter  labored  in  his 
Master's  cause,  watering  the  way  of  his  life  with  the  tears  of 
an  abiding  sorrow,  because,  in  an  hour  of  weakness,  he  had 
denied  Jesus  Christ ;  until,  at  length,  many  years  after  the 
Savioui-'s  ascension  into  heaven,  an  old  man  was  brought 
forth  from  a  deep  dungeon  in  Rome.  There  were  chains 
upon  his  aged  limbs,  and  he  was  bowed  down,  with  care  and 
austerity,  to  the  very  earth.  The  few  white  hairs  upon  his 
head  fell  upon  his  aged  and  drooping  shoulders.  Meekly 
his  lips  moved  as  in  prayer,  while  lie  toiled  up  the  steep,  rug- 
ged side  of  one  of  the  seven  hills  of  Rome.  And  when  he 
had  gained  the  summit,  lo  !    as  in  Jerusalem,  many  years 


THE  COXSTITUTION  OF  THE  CHVRCH.  167 

before,  there  was  a  cross  and  there  were  three  nails.  They 
nailed  the  aged  man  to  that  cross,  straining  his  time-wora 
limbs,  until  tliey  drove  the  nails  into  liis  hands  and  feet. 
And  then,  when  they  were  about  to  lift  him,  a  faint  prayer 
came  from  his  lip?,  and  the  crucified  man  said :  "  There  was 
One  in  Jerusalem  whose  royal  head  was  lifted  towards 
heaven,  ui)on  a  cross.  And  He  was  my  Lord  and  my  God, 
Jesus  Chi'ist.  I  am  not  worthy,"  he  said,  ''  to  be  made  like 
Him,  even  in  suffering ;  and  therefore,  I  pray  you,  that  you 
crucify  me  with  my  head  towards  the  earth,  from  which  I 
came."  And  so,  thus  elevated,  he  diedj  and  the  First 
Pope  passed  away. 

For  three  huncked  years  Pope  succeeded  Pope.  Peter  had 
no  sooner  left  the  world  than  Linus  took  his  sceptre  and 
governed  the  Church  of  God.  Though,  down  in  the  Cata- 
combs of  Rome,  he  governed  the  Chm-cb  of  God,  every 
Bishop  in  the  Church,  every  power  in  the  Church  recognized 
him  and  obeyed  him  as  the  representative  of  God — the  living 
head,  the  earthly  viceroy  of  the  invisible  but  real  Head — 
Jesus  Christ.  For  three  hundred  years,  Pope  after  Pope  died, 
and  sealed  his  faith  in  the  Church  of  God  with  a  martyr's 
blood.  And  then,  after  thi'ee  hundred  years  of  dii-e  perse- 
cution, the  Church  of  God  was  free,  and  she  walked  the  earth 
in' all  the  majesty  and  purity  of  her  beauty. 

In  the  fifth  century,  the  Roman  Empire  yet  preserved  the 
outward  fonn  of  its  majesty  and  power.  All  the  nations  of 
the  earth  bowed  to  Rome.  All  conquered  peoples  looked 
to  Rome  as  their  mistress,  and  as  the  centre  of  the  W(u-ld ; 
when,  suddenly,  from  the  forests  and  snows  of  the  North, 
poured  do'AU  the  Huns,  the  Goths,  and  Visigoths,  in  count- 
less thousands  and  hundreds  of  thousands.  The  barbarian 
hordes  sallied  from  their  fastnesses,  and,  led  by  their  sav- 
age kings,  broke  in  pieces  the  Roman  Empire,  and  shattered 
the  wliole  fabric  of  Pagan  civilization  to  atoms.  They  rode 
rough-shod  over  the  Roman  citizens  and  their  nilers,  burned 
their  palaces,  and  destroyed  their  cities,  leaving  them  a 
pile  of  smouldering  ruins.  Every  vestige  of  ancient  Pagan 
civilization  and  power,  glory,  and  art,  and  science,  went  dow^n 
and  disappeared  ^under  the  tramp  of  the  horses  of  Attila. 
One  power,  alone,  stood  before  these  ruthless  destroyers; 
one  power  alone  opened  its  ai'ms  to  receive  them ;  one 
power  arrested  them  in  their  cai-eer  of  blood  and  victoiy; 


168  FA  THEE  B  UEKE'S  DISCO  UBSES. 

— and  tliat  power  was  the  Catholic  Church.  "In  that 
day,"  says  a  Protestant  historian,  "the  Catholic  Church 
saved  the  world,  and  out  of  these  rude  elements  fonned 
tlie  fouudatiou  of  the  civilization,  the  lil)ei-ty,  and  the  glory 
which  is  our  portion  in  this  nineteenth  century." 

In  the  nieantiuie,  Rome  was  destroyed.  The  fairest  pro- 
vinces of  Gaul,  Spain,  Italy,  and  Germany  were  overrun  by 
the  harharians.  The  people  were  oppressed.  Fathers  of 
families  were  cut  off,  hearth-fires  extinguished,  and  the  blood 
of  the  young  ravished  maiden  and  of  the  weeping  mother 
was  wantonly  shed.  The  people,  in  their  agony,  cried  out 
to  the  only  nian  whom  the  barbarians  respected,— one  whom 
the  whole  world  recognized  as,  in  a  manner,  tinged  with 
divinity, — the  Pope  of  Rome.  The  cry  of  an  anguished 
peopleNvent  forth  from  end  to  end  of  Italy ;  and  in  that  hour 
of  peril  the  cry  was,.—"  Save  us  from  ruin  !  Cover  us  with 
the  mantle  of  your  protection !  Be  thou  our  monarch  and 
king !  and  then,  and  then  only,  can  we  expect  to  be  saved." 
Then  did  the  Pope  of  RoAe  clothe  himself  with  a  new  power 
independent  of  that  which  he  had  received  already,  and  which 
was  recognized  from  the  beginning, — namely,  that  temporal 
power  and  so\'ereignty,  that  crown  of  a  monarch,  that  place 
in  the  council  chambers  of  kings,  that  voice  in  the  guidance 
of  nations  and  in  the  influencing  of  the  destinies  of  ^  the 
material  world  which,  for  century  after  century,  he  exercised, 
but  which  we,  in  our  day,  have  seen  him  deprived  of  by  the 
hands  of  those  who  have  plucked  the  kingly  crown  from  his 
aged  and  venerable  brow.  How  did  he  exercise  that  power? 
How  did  he  wear  that  crown  ?  What  position  does  he  hold 
as  his  figure  rises  up  before  the  vision  of  the  student  of  his- 
tory, looking  back  into  the  past  and  beholding  him  as  he 
passes  among  the  long  file  of  kings  and  warriors  of  the 
earth  ?  0  my  friends,  no  sword  dripping  with  blood  is  seen 
in  the  hands  of  the  Pope-king,  but  only  the  sceptre  of  jus- 
tice and  of  law.  No  cries  of  a  suffering  and  afflicted  people 
resound  about  him,  but  the  blessings  of  peace  and  of  a 
delighted  and  consoled  world  surround  him.  No  blood  follows, 
floating  in  the  path  of  his  progress.  That  patli  is  strewn 
with  the  tears  of  those  who  wept  with  joy  at  his  approach, 
and  with  the  flowers  of  peace  and  of  contentment.  He  used 
his  power — and  history  bears  me  out  when  I  say  it — the 
power  which  was  providentially  put  into  his  hands,  by  which 


THE  CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  CHURCH.  169 

he  was  made  not  only  a  king  among  kings,  but  the  first  re- 
cognized monarch  in  Christendom ;  the  king,  higliest  among 
kings  ;  the  man  whose  voice  governed  the  kings  of"  the  earth, 
convened  their  councils,  directed  their  course,  reproved  them 
in  their  errors,  and  restrained  them  i'rtmi  shedding  the  blood 
of  their  people,  and  from  the  commission  of  every 
other  injustice ; — all  these  powers  he  used  for  the  good 
of  God's  people.  lie  used  that  power  for  a  thou- 
sand years  for  purposes  of  clemency,  of  law,  of  justice,  and 
of  freedom.  When  Spain  and  Portugal,  in  the  zenith  of  their 
power,  each  commanding  mighty  amiies,  were  about  to  draw 
the  sword  and  devastate  the  fair  plains  of  Castile  and 
Andalusia,  the  Pope  came  in  and  said:  ^'Mighty  kings 
though  you  be,  I  will  not  permit  you  to  shed  the  blood  of 
your  people  in  an  unnecessary  war."  When  Philip  Augustus, 
of  France,  at  the  height  of  his  power, — when  he  was  the 
strongest  king  in  Christendom, — wished  to  repudiate  his  law- 
ful wife,  and  to  take  another  one  in  her  stead,  the  injured 
woman  appealed  to  Rome ;  and  from  Rome  came  the  voice 
of  Rome's  king,  saying  to  him :  "  O  monarch,  great  and 
mighty  as  thou  art,  if  thou  doest  this  injustice  to  thy  mar- 
ried wife,  and  scandalize  the  world  by  thine  impurity,  I  \nll 
send  the  curse  of  God  and  of  His  Chm'ch  upon  you,  and  cut 
you  of!"  like  a  rotten  branch  from  among  the  community  of 
kings."  AVhen  Henry  VIII,  of  England,  wished  to  put  away 
from  him  the  pure  and  high-minded  and  lawful  mother  of  his 
children,  because  his  licentious  e\'es  had  fallen  upon  a 
younger  and  fairer  form  than  hers,  the  Pope  of  Rome  said 
to  him  :  '^  If  you  commit  this  iniquity ;  if  you  repudiate  your 
lawful  wife  ;  if  you  set  up  the  principle  that,  because  you  are 
a  king,  you  can  violate  the  law  j  if  no  power  in  your  own 
country  is  able  to  bring  you  to  account  for  it,  my  hand  will 
come  down  upon  you  ;  and  I  will  cut  you  off  from  the  com- 
munion of  the  faithful,  and  fling  you,  with  the  curse  of  God 
upon  you,  out  upon  the  world."  And  I  say  that  in  such 
facts  as  these — and  I  might  multiply  them  by  the  hundred 
— the  Pope  of  Rome  used  his  temporal  sovereignty  and  his 
kingly  power  among  the  nations  in  establishing  the  sacred 
cause  of  human  liberty.  I  speak  of  liberty — I  speak  of 
human  liberty;  I  thank  my  God  that  1  am  breathing  the  air  in 
which  a  free  man  may  speak  the  language  of  freedom.  I 
have  a  right  to  speak  of  freedom  ;    for  I  am  a  child  of  a  race 

8 


170  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

that  for  eight  hinidrecl  years  have  been  martyred  in  the  sacred 
cause  of  freedom.  Never  did  a  people  love  it,  since  the 
world  was  created,  as  the  children  of  Ireland,  who  enjoy  if 
less  than  any  other  nation.  I  can  speak  this  night,  but 
rather  with  tlie  faltering  voice  of  an  infant,  than  with  the 
full  swelling  tones  of  a  man.  For  I  have  loved  thee,  O 
Mother  Libeiiy !  Thy  fair  face  was  veiled  from  mine  eyes 
from  the  days  of  my  childhood.  I  longed  to  see  the  glisten- 
ing of  thy  pm-e  eyes,  0  Liberty  !  I  never  saw  it  until  I  put 
my  foot  upon  the  soil  of  glorious  young  Columbia.  And 
there,  rising  out  of  this  great  Western  ocean,  likie  Aphrodite 
of  old  from  the  foam  of  the  rolling  billows,  I  beheld  the 
goddess  in  all  her  beauty  j  and  as  a  priest,  as  well  as  an 
Irishman,  I  bowed  down  to  her. 

But  what  is  liberty  ?  Does  it  consist  in  every  man  liaving 
a  right  to  do  as  he  likes  ?  No,  my  friends,  this  is  not  liberty. 
The  quintessence  of  freedom  lies,  not  in  the  power  of  every 
man  to  do  wliat  he  likes,  but  that  quintessence  of  freedom 
and  liberty  lies  in  every  man  having  his  rights  clearly  de- 
fined. No  matter  who  he  is,  from  the  first  to  the  last,  from 
the  humblest  to  the  highest  in  the  community,  let  ever}'-  man 
know  his  own  rights ;  let  him  know  what  power  he  has  and 
what  privileges  5  give  him  every  reasonable  freedom  and 
liberty,  and  secm'e  that  to  him  by  law;  and  then,  when  you 
have  secured  every  man's  rights  and  defined  them  by  law, 
make  every  man  in  the  State,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest, 
from  the  President  do^vu  to  the  poorest, — the  greatest  and 
the  noblest,  as  well  as  the  humblest  and  the  meanest — let 
every  man  be  obliged  to  bow  down  before  the  omnipotence 
of  the  law.  A  people  that  know  their  rights,  a  people  that 
have  their  rights  thus  defined,  a  people  that  are  resolved  to 
assert  the  omnipotence  of  those  rights — that  people  can 
never  be  enslaved.  Now,  this  being  the  definition  of  liberty 
— and  I  am  sure  that  it  comes  home  like  conviction  to  every 
man  in  this  house — what  is  true  freedom  ?  That  I  know 
what  rights  I  have,  and  that  no  man  will  be  allov/ed  to 
infringe  them.  Give  me  every  reasonable  right,  and  when 
I  have  these,  secure  them  to  me,  and  keep  away  from  me 
every  man  that  dares  to  impede  me  in  the  exercise  of  them, 
so  that  I  may  exercise  them  freely. 

Now,  I  ask  you,  who  is  the  father  of  this  liberty  that  we 
enjoy  to-day? — who  is  the  father  of  it,  if  not  the  man  who 


THE  CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  CHURCH.  171 

stood  between  the  barbarians,  coming  downi  to  waste,  with 
fire  and  sword,  to  abolish  the  law,  to  abolish  governments 
and  destroy  the  peoples — the  man  that  stood  between  those 
destroyers  and  the  people,  and  said  :  ''  Let  us  make  laws,  and 
you  respect  them,  and  I  will  get  the  people  to.  respect  them." 
That  man  was  the  Pope  of  Rome.  Who  was  the  man  that, 
for  a  thousand  years,  as  a  crowned  monarch,  was  the  very 
impersonation  of  the  principle  of  law,  but  the  Pope  ?  Who 
was^the  man  that  was  equally  ready  to  crush  the  poor  man 
and  the  rich  man,  the  king  and  the  people — to  crush  them 
by  the  weight  of  his  authority — when  they  violated  that  law 
and  refused  to  recognize  that  palladium  of  human  liberty  ? 
It  was  the  Pope  of  Rome.  Who  was  the  man  whose  genius 
inspu'ed  and  whose  ability  contributed  to  the  foundation  and 
the  very  institutions  of  the  Italian  Republics,  and  of  the  an- 
cient liberties  of  Spain  in  the  early  3Iiddle  Ages  ?  Who  was 
the  man  that  protected  them  from  the  tyranny  of  the  cruel, 
lawless  barons,  fortified  in  their  castles  t  He  was  the  man 
whose  house  was  a  sanctuary  for  the  weak  and  persecuted, 
and  who  surrounded  that  house  with  all  the  censures  and 
vengeance  of  the  Church  against  any  one  who  would  violate  its 
sanctity.  Who  labored,  by  degrees,  patiently,  for  more  than 
a  thousand  years,  until  he  at  length  succeeded  in  elaborating 
the  principles  of  modern  freedom  and  modern  society  from 
out  the  chaotic  ruin  and  confusion  of  these  ages  of  barbar- 
ism ?  Who  was  he  ? — the  father  of  civilization — the  father 
of  the  world  ?  History  asserts,  and  asserts  loudly,  that  he 
was  the  royal  Pope  of  Rome.  And  now  the  gratitude  of  the 
world  has  been  to  shake  his  ancient  and  time-honored  throne, 
and  to  pluck  the  kingly  crown  from  his  brow  in  his  old  age, 
after  seventy  years  of  usefulness  and  of  glory ;  and  to  con- 
fine him,  a  prisoner,  practically,  in  the  Vatican  Palace  in 
Rome.  A  prisoner,  I  say,  practically  ;  for  how  can  he  be 
considered  other  than  a  prisoner,  who  cannot  go  out  of  his 
palace  into  the  streets  of  the  city,  without  hearing  the 
ribaldry,  the  profanity,  the  obscenity,  and  the  blasphemy,  to 
which  his  aged,  pure,  and  virgin  ears  had  never  lent  them- 
selves for  a  moment  of  his  life.  Yes — he  is  dethroned,  but 
not  dishonored ;  uncrowned,  but  not  dishonored ;  not  un- 
crowned by  the  wish  of  his  own  people,  1  assert,  for  I  have 
lived  for  twelve  years  amidst  them,  and  I  know  he  never 
oppressed  them.     lie  never  drove  them  forth — the  youth  of 


172  FATHER  BUBKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

his  subjects — to  be  slaughtered  on  the  battle-field,  because 
he  had  some  little  enmity  or  jealousy  against  his  fellow-mon- 
arch. He  never  loaded  them  with  taxes,  nor  oppressed  them 
until  life  became  too  heavy  to  bear.  Uncrowned,  indeed,  but 
not  dishonored,  though  we  behold  him  seated  in  the  desolate 
halls  of  the  once  glorious  Vatican,  abandoned  by  all  human 
help,  and  by  the  sympathy  of  nearly  all  the  world  !  But 
upon  those  aged  brows  there  rests  a  crown — a  trij)le  crown, 
— that  no  human  hand  can  ever  pluck  from  his  brow,  because 
that  crown  has  been  set  on  that  head  by  the  hand  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  by  his  Church.  That  triple  crown,  my  fi'iends, 
is  the  crown  of  spiritual  supremacy,  the  crown  of  infallibility, 
and  the  crown  of  perpetuity.  In  the  day  when  Christ  said 
to  Peter,  "  Confirm  thou  thy  brethren  ;  feed  my  lambs,  feed 
My  sheep ;  to  thee  do  I  give  the  keys  of  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven," — in  that  day  he  made  Peter  supreme  among  the 
Apostles.  His  words  meant  this  or  meant  nothing.  Peter 
wielded  that  sceptre  of  supremacy;  and  nothing  is  more 
clearly  pointed  out  in  the  subsequent  inspired  history  of  the 
Church,  as  recorded  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  than  the 
fact  that,  when  Peter  spoke,  every  other  man.  Apostle  or 
otherwise,  was  silent,  and  accepted  Peter's  word  as  the  last 
decision,  from  which  there  was  no  appeal.  Never,  in  the 
Church  of  God,  has  Peter's  successor  ceased  to  assert  broadly, 
emphatically,  and  practically  this  primacy.  Never  was  a 
Council  convened  in  the  Catholic  Church,  except  on  the  com- 
mands of  the  Pope.  Never  did  a  Council  of  Bishops  pre- 
sume to  sit  down  and  deliberate  upon  matters  of  faith  and 
morals  except  under  the  guidance  and  in  the  presence  of  the 
Pope,  either  personally  there,  or  there  by  his  ofiicers  or 
legates.  Never  was  a  letter  read  at  the  opening  of  any 
Council, — and  they  were  constantly  sent  to  each  succeeding 
Council, — that  the  Bishops  of  the  Church  did  not  rise  up  and 
proclaim ;  ^'  We  hear  the  voice  of  the  Pope,  which  is  the 
voice  of  Peter ;  and  Peter's  voice  is  the  echo  of  the  voice  of 
Jesus  Christ."  Never  did  any  man  in  the  Church  of  God 
presume  to  appeal  from  the  tribunal  of  the  Pope,  even  to  the 
Church  in  Council,  without  having  the  taint  of  heresy  affixed 
to  him,  and  the  curse  of  disobedience  and  schism  put  upon 
•  him.  For  centuries  it  has  been  the  recognized  principle  of 
the  Catholic  Church  that  no  man  can  lawfully  appeal  to  aiiy 
tribunal  from  the  decision  of  the  Pope  in  matters  spiritual 


THE  COXSTITUTIOX  OF  THE  CHURCH.  173 

or  in  matters  touching  faitli  and  morality,  hecanse  there  is  no 
tiibunal  to  appeal  to  above  him  save  that  of  God.  He  re- 
presents (as  the  visible  head  of  the  Church)  the  Invisible 
Head,  who  is  none  other  than  Jesns  Christ.  Tlie  conse- 
quence is  tliat  the  Church,  as  a  kingdom,  like  every  other 
State,  has  its  last  grand  tribunal,  just  like  the  House  of 
Lords  in  England,  or  the  High  Court  of  Justice  in  Washing- 
ton, from  which  there  is  rio  appeal.  What  follows  from 
this?  There  is  no  appeal  from  the  Pope's  decision.  There 
never  has  been.  Is  the  Church  bound  to  abide  by  that  de- 
cision ?  Certainly  ;  because  the  Church  is  bound  in  obedience 
to  her  head ;  one  man  alone  can  command  the  obedience  of 
the  Church  and  the  duty  of  submissicm ;  and  that  man  is  the 
Pope.  He  has  always  commanded  it ;  and  no  one  has  dared 
to  appeal  from  his  decision,  because,  as  I  said  before,  he  is 
the  Viceroy,  the  visible  head  of  the  Church,  in  wdiom,  offi- 
cially, is  the  voice  of  Jesus  Christ  present  with  His  Clim'ch. 
What  follows  from  this,  my  friends  ?  If  it  be  true  that  the 
Church  of  God  can  never  believe  a  lie  j  if  it  be  true  that 
she  can  never  be  called  upon  by  a  voice  that  she  is  bound 
to  obey,  to  accept  a  lie  ;  if  it  be  true  that  nothing  false  in 
doctrine  or  unsound  in  morality  can  ever  be  received  by  the 
Church  of  God,  or  ever  be  imposed  upon  her  ; — for  He  who 
founded  her  said  :  ^'  The  gates  of  hell  shall  never  prevail 
against  My  Church  ;" — then  it  follows  that, — if  there  be  no 
appeal  from  the  Pope's  decision,  but  only  submission  on  the 
part  of  the  Church, — it  follows  that  the  Pope,  when  he 
speaks  as  the  head  of  the  Church,  when  he  preaches  to  the 
whole  Church,  when  he  bears  witness  to  the  Church's  belief 
and  the  Chm-ch's  morality,  when  he  propounds  a  certain 
doctrine  to  her — upon  a  body  that  can  never  believe  a  lie, 
that  can  never  act  upon  a  lie,  whose  destiny  it  is  to  remain 
pure  in  doctrine  and  in  morality — pure  as  the  Son  of  God 
who  created  her ; — it  follows  that  when  the  Pope  propounds 
that  doctrine  to  the  Church,  he  cannot  propound  a  lie  to  her, 
or  force  that  lie  upon  her  belief — it  follows  that  the  same 
spirit  of  Divine  Truth  that  preserves  the  body  preserves  also 
the  head,  and  that  the  Pope,  as  head  of  the  infallible  Church, 
must  be  infallible.  In  other  words,  the  Pope  may  make  a 
nnstake.  If  he  write  a  book,  as  a  private  author,  he 
may  put  something  in  it  that  is  not  true.  If  he  pro- 
pound certain  theories,  unconnected  with  faith  and  morals, 


174  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

he  may  be  as  mistaken  as  you  or  I.  But  the  moment  the 
Pope  stands  up  before  the  holy  Chnrch  of  God,  and  says  : 
^'  This  is  the  Church's  belief ;  this  has  been  from  the  begin- 
ning her  belief;  this  is  her  tradition  ;  this  is  her  truth  ;"  then 
he  cannot,  under  such  circumstances,  teach  the  Catholic  Church  • 
— the  spouse  of  Jesus  Christ — a  lie.  Consequently,  he  is 
infallible.  I  do  not  give  the  Church's  infallibility,  as  the 
intrinsic  reason  of  Pa{)al  infallibility ;  but  I  say  this,  that  if 
any  reasoning  man  admits  that  Clirist  founded  an  infallible 
Church,  it  follows  of  necessity  that  he  must  admit  an  infalli- 
ble head.  It  was  but  three  or  four  days  ago  that  I  was  dis- 
puting with  an  Unitarian  minister,  a  man  of  intelligence  and 
of  deep  learning,  as  clever  a  man,  almost,  as  I  ever  met  j  and 
he  said  to  me :  ^'  If  I  once  admitted  that  the  Church  was  in- 
fallible, that  she  could  not  eiT,  that  moment  I  would  have 
to  admit  the  infallibility  of  the  Pope  ;  for  how  on  earth  can 
you  imagine  a  Church  that  cannot  err,  bound  to  believe  a 
man  that  commands  her  to  believe  a  lie  !  It  is  impossible;  it  is 
absurd  upon  the  face  of  it."  And  so,  ray  friends,  it  has  ever 
been  the  belief  and  faith  of  the  Catholic  Church  that  the 
Pope  is  preserved  by  the  same  spirit  of  truth  that  preserves 
the  Church. 

But,  you  will  ask  me,  "  If  this  be  the  case,  tell  me  how  is 
it  that  it  was  only  three  or  four  years  ago  the  Church  declared 
that  the  Pope  was  infallible  V^  I  answer  that  the  Catholic 
Church  cannot — it  is  not  alone  that  she  will  not,. but  she  can- 
not— teach  any  thing  new,  any  thing  unheard  of.  She  cannot 
find  a  truth,  as  it  were,  as  a  man  would  find  a  guinea  under 
a  stone.  She  cannot  go  looking  for  new  ideas  and  saying  : 
"  Ah  !  I  find  this  is  new  !  Did  you  ever  hear  of  it  before  f '' 
The  Church  cannot  say  that.  She  has  from  the  beginning 
the  full  deposit  of  Catholic  truth  in  her  hand  ;  she  has  it  in 
her  instinct;  she  has  it  in  her  mind;  but  it  is  only  now  and 
then,  when  a  sore  emergency  is  put  upon  her,  and  she  cannot 
help  it,  that  the  Church  of  God  declares  tliis  truth  or  that,  or 
the  other,  which  she  has  always  believed,  to  be  a  revelation 
of  God,  and  crystallizes  her  faith  and  belief  and  tradition  in 
the  form  of  dogmatic  definition.  Which  of  us  doubts  that 
the  very  foundation  of  the  Catholic  Church  rests  upon  the 
belief  that  Christ,  our  Lord,  the  Redeemer,  was  the  Son  of 
God  1  It  is  the  very  foundation-stone  of  Clu'istianity.  This 
has  been  the  essence  of  all  relio-ion  since  the  Son  of  God 


THE  CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  CHURCH.  175 

became  raan.  And  yet,  ray  friends,  for  three  hundred  years 
the  Catholic  Chui-ch  had  not  said  a  single  word  about  the 
divinity  of  Christ  j  and  it  was  only  after  three  hundred  years, 
when  a  man  named  Arius  rose  up  and  said :  "  It  is  all  a  mis- 
take ;  the  Son  of  Mary  is  not  the  Son  of  God.  He  who 
suffered  and  died  on  the  Cross  was  not  the  Son  of  God, 
but  a  mere  man  j " — then  after  three  hundred  years  the 
Church  turned  round  and  said:  ''If  any  man  says  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  not  God,  let  that  man  be  accursed  as  an  infidel 
and  a  heretic.'^  Woiild  any  of  you  say  :  "  Then  it  seems  that 
for  three  hundred  years  the  Church  did  not  believe  it?"  She 
always  believed  it  j  it  was  always  her  foundation-stone. 
"  If  she  did  believe  it,  why  did  not  she  define  it  ?  "  I  answer, 
the  occasion  had  not  arisen.  It  is  only  when  some  bold 
invader,  when  some  proud,  heretical  man,  when  some  bad 
spirit  manifests  itself  among  the  people,  that  the  Church  is 
obliged  to  come  out  and  say — '-  Take  care  !  take  care  !  Re- 
member this  is  the  true  faith  j"  and  then,  when  she  declares  her 
faith,  it  becomes  a  dogmatic  definition,  and  all  Catholics  are 
bound  to  bow  to  it.  Need  I  tell  you,  Irish  maids,  Irish 
mothers,  and  Irish  men — ^need  I  tell  you  how  St.  Patrick 
preached  of  the  woman  whom  he  called  Muire  3UiafJiaire, 
"  Mary  Mother,"  the  woman  whom  he  called  the  Virgin  of 
God  ?  Need  I  tell  you  that  the  Church  always  believed  that 
that  woman  was  the  Mother  of  God  ?  And  yet  you  will  be 
surprised  to  hear  that  at  the  time  that  St.  Patrick  preached 
to  the  Irish  people,  the  Church  had  not  yet  defined  it  as  an 
article  of  faith.  It  was  only  in  the  fifth  century  that  the 
Church,  at  Ephesus,  declared  dogmatically  that  Mary  was  the 
Mother  of  God.  Did  not  she  believe  it  before?  Certainly! 
It  was  no  new  thing;  she  always  believed  it;  but  there  was 
no  necessity  to  assert  it  till  heretics  denied  it.  Then,  to  guard 
her  children  from  the  error  which  was  being  -asserted,  she 
had  to  define  her  faith.  Did  not  the  Church  always  believe 
iu  the  presence  of  Christ  transubtantiated  in  the  Euchai'ist? 
Most  certainly.  All  history  tell  us  that  she  believed  it. 
Her  usages,  her  ceremonies,  every  thing  in  her,  point  to  that 
di\dne  presence  as  their  life  and  centre ;  but  it  was  sixteen 
hundred  years  l)efore  the  Church  defined  tran substantiation 
as  an  article  of  faith ;  and  then  only  because  Calvin  denied 
it.  He  was  the  first  heretic  to  deny  it.  It  was  denied  by 
Berengarius,  a  learned  man,  in  the  thirteenth  century  ;  but  he 


176  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

immediately  repented,  and  burned  his  book,  and  there  was  an 
end  of  it.  But  the  first  man  to  preach  a  denial  of  the  real 
presence  of  Christ  was  Calvin.  Luther  never  did.  The 
Church  of  God  declared  that  Christ  was  present,  and 
that  the  substance  of  bread  and  wine  was  changed 
into  the  body  and  blood  of  the  Lord.  And  so,  in 
our  dav,  the  Chiu'ch,  for  the  first  time,  found  it  necessary 
to  declare  that  her  head,  her  visible  head,  cannot  teach 
her  a  lie.  It  seems  such  an  outrage  upon  common  sense  to 
deny  this, — it  seems  so  palpable^and  plain,  from  the  very 
constitution  of  the  Church,  that  it  seems  as  if  the  definition  of 
this  dogma  were  unnecessary.  Yet  in  truth  it  was  to  meet  the 
proud,  self-asserting,  cavilling,  questioning  spirit  of  our  day 
that  the  Chm'ch  was  obliged  to  do  this.  It  was  because, 
guided  by  a  wise  Providence, — scarcely  knowing,  yet  fore- 
seeing that  which  was  to  come, — that  the  Pope  was  to  be  de- 
prived of  all  the  prestige  of  his  temporal  power ;  that  all 
that  suiTounded  him  in  Rome  was  to  be  lost  to  Him  for  a 
time ;  that,  perhaps,  it  was  his  destiny  to  be  driven  out  and 
exiled,  and  a  stranger  among  other  men  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  ;  so  that  he  might  be  unknown,  lost  sight  of, — that  the 
Church  of  God,  with  her  eight  hundred  Bishops,  rising  up  in 
the  strength  of  her  guiding  spirit,  fixed  upon  the  brow  of  her 
Pontift'  the  seal  of  her  faith  in  his  infallibility,  that  wherever 
he  goes,  wherever  he  is  found,  whatever  misfortunes  may  be 
his  lot,  he  will  still  have  that  seal  upon  him  which  no  other 
man  can  bear,  and  which  is  the  stamp  of  the  head  of  the 
Catholic  Chunih. 

And  now,  my  dear  friends,  we  come  to  the  last  circle  of  that 
spiritual  tiara  that  rests  upon  the  brow  of  Pius  the  Ninth. 
It  is  the  crown  of  perpetuity.  There  is  no  man  necessary 
in  this  world  but  one.  We  are  here  to-day  5  we  die  to- 
morrow, and  others  take  our  places.  The  kings  of  the  earth 
are  not  necessary.  Sometimes,  Lord  knows,  it  would  be 
as  well  if  they  did  not  exist  at  all.  The  statesmen  and 
philosophers  of  the  earth  are  not  necessary.  My  friends,  the 
politicians  of  to-day  are  scarcely  a  necessity.  AVe  might 
manage  by  a  little  engineering — and  above  all  by  a  little 
more  honesty — to  get  on  without  them,  and  find  perhaps  a 
few  dollars  more  in  our  pockets.  One  alone  was  necessary 
to  this  world  from  the  beginning,  and  that  was  He  whom 
we   beheld   upon  the  cross  on   Good-Friday  morning — He 


THE  CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  CHURCH.  177 

alone.  ^  Without  Him  we  were  all  lost ;  no  grace,  bnt  sin  j 
DO  purity,  but  corruption ;  no  heaven,  hut  hell.  He  was 
necessary  from  the  heginning ;  and  the  only  man  that  is  now 
necessary  upon  the  earth  is  the  man  that  represents  Him. 
"We  cannot  get  on  without  him.  The  Church  must  liave  her 
head ;  and  He  who  declared  that  the  Church  was  to  last  un- 
to the  end  of  time  will  take  good  care  to  keep  her  head.  He  is 
mider  the  hand  of  God  ;  and  under  the  hand  of  the  Ruler  of 
the  Church  we  can  well  afford  to  lea\-e  him.  He  will  take 
good  care  of  him.  As  a  temporal  ruler  I  assert  still  that 
the  Pope  is  the  only  necessary  ruler  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  He  is  necessary,  because,  not  establishing  his  power 
by  the  sword  j  not  preserving  it  by  the  sword  j  not  en- 
larging his  dominions  by  the  sword,  or  by  injustice;  as 
a  monarch,  as  a  king,  he  represents  the  principle  of 
right  unprotected  by  might,  and  of  justice  and  law  en- 
throned by  the  common  consent  of  all  the  nations.  In  the 
day  when  might  shall  assume  the  place  of  right;  in  the  dav 
when  a  man  cannot  find  tAvo  square  feet  of  earth  on  which  to 
build  a  throne,  without  bloodshed  and  injustice ;  in  that  dav, 
when  it  comes,  the  Pope  will  no  longer  be  necessarv  as'a 
temporal  sovereign ;— but  pray  God,  that  before  that  dav 
comes,  you  and  I  may  be  in  our  graves ;  for  when  that  day 
comes,  if  ever  it  comes,  life  will  be  no  blessing,  and  existence 
upon  this  earth  will  be  a  curse  rather  than  a  joy.  The 
Pope  is  necessary  because  some  power  is  needed  to  stand 
betw  een  ^  the  kings  and  the  people ;  some  power  before 
which  kings  must  bow  down;  some  voice  recognized  as 
the  voice  ^  not  of  a  subject,  not  of  an  ordinary  man, 
or  an  ordinary  bishop;  a  voice  as  of  a  king  amongst 
kings  ;  some  voice  which  will  confound  the  jealousies,  a^nd 
passions,  and  scandals  of  the  riders  of  the  earth,  which  only 
serve  as  so  many  means  to  shed  the  blood  of  the  people. 
Our  best  security  is  tlie  crown  that  rests  upon  the  brow  of  a 
peaceful  king.  Our  best  security  is  the  crown  that  rests  upon 
the  brow  of  a  man  who  w'as  always  and  ever  ready  to  shield 
the  weak  from  the  powerful,  and  to  save  to  woman  her 
honor,  her  dignity,  her  place  in  the  family,  her  maternity, 
from  the  treachery,  and  the  villany,  and  the  inconstancy  of 
man;  to  strike  off  the  chains  of  *the  slave,  and  to  prepare 
him  before  emancipation  for  the  glorious  gift  of  freedom. 
This  power  is  the  Pope's,  and  he  Las  exercised  it  honestly 


178  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

and  well.     Protestant  historians  will  tell  you  that  the  Pope 
was  the  father  of  liberty;  that  he  was  the  founder  of  mod- 
em civilization :  and  that  the  crown  that  was  upon  his  head 
was  the  homage  paid  by  the  nations  to  clemency,  and  mercy, 
and  justice,  and  law.    *And  therefore  he  must  come  back; 
he  must  come  and  seat  himself  upon  the  throne  again.  ^  The 
day  will  come  when  all  the  Christians  in  the  world  will  be 
desirous  of  this.     And  when  that  day  comes,  and  not  till  then, 
justice  shall  be  once  more  tempered  by  mercy;  absolutism 
shall  be  once  more  neutralized  by  the   constitutional  lib- 
erties and  privileges  of  the  people.     When  that  day  comes, 
the  people  on  their  side  will  feel  the  strong  yet  quiet  re- 
straining hand  enforcing  the  law ;  while  the  kings,  on  their 
side,    will   behold   once   more  the   now-hated  and  detested 
vision  of  the  hand  of  the  Pontiff  brandishing  the  thunders 
of  the   Vatican.     That  day   must  come,    and  with   it  ^\all 
come  the  dawn  of  a  better  day,  a   day  of  peace.     And  I 
believe,  even  now,  in  this  future  day,  in  this  coming  year, 
when  we  shall  behold  the  Pope  advancing  at  the  head  of  all 
the  rulers   of  the    earth,    and   pointing   out,    with    sceptred 
hand,    the   way   of  justice,    of    mercy,     of    truth,    and^   of 
freedom.      We   shall   behold   him,    when   all   the    nations 
of    the     earth     shall    greet    his    retm:n    to    power,    shall 
greet  his  entry  into  the  council-chambers  of  their  sovereigns, 
even  as  the  Jews  greeted  the  entry  of  Christ  into  Jerusa- 
lem, and  hailed  Him  king.     I  behold  him,   when  foremost 
among  the  nations  that  shall  greet  him,  in  that  hour, — a 
sceptred  monarch  and  crowned  king,  a  temporal  ruler,  and,  far 
more,  a  spiritual  father, — amongst  these  nations,  the  mighty, 
the  vouno;,  the  glorious,  and  Ihe  free  America  shall  present 
herself.   ""When  this  land, — so  mighty  in  its  extent  and  the 
limits  of  its  powder,  that  it  cannot  afford  to  be  any  thing  else 
tlian  Catholic, — for  no  other  faith  can  be  commensurate  with 
so  mighty  a  nation  ; — when  this  land,  this  glorious  America, 
developing  her  resources,  rising  into  that  awful  majesty  of 
power  that  wall  shake  the  w'orld  and  shape  its  destinies,  will 
find  every  other  religious  garb  too  small  and  too  miserable 
to  cover  her  stately  form  save  the  garb  of  the  Catholic  faith, 
the  Chrisrian  garinent  in  which  the  Church  of  God  will  en- 
velop her ;  and  she,  strong  in  her  material  power,  strong  in 
her  mighty  intelligence,  strong  in  that  might  that  will  place 
her  at  the  front  of  the  nations,  shall  be  the  first  to  hail  her 


THE  CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  CHURCH.  179 

Pontiff,  her  father  and  her  king,  and  to  establish  him  npon 
his  mighty  throne  as  the  emblem  and  the  centre  of  the  faith 
and  the  glorious  religion  of  an  united  people,  Avhose  strength 
— the  strength  of  intellect,  the  strength  of  faith,  the  strength 
of  material  power — will  raise  up,  before  the  eyes  of  a  won- 
dering and  united  world,  a  new  vision  of  the  recuperative 
power  and  majesty  and  greatness  of  the  Almighty  God,  as 
reflected  in  His  Chui'ch. 


THE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  CATHOLIC  CHARITY. 

{A  Lecture  delivn-ed  by  Very  Bev.  T.  N.  BurJce,  O.P.,  in  St.  Mary's 
Church,  Hohoken,  N.  J.,  April  25,  1872,  for  the  benefit  of  the  Hospital 
under  the  charge  of  the  Sisters  of  the  Poor.'] 

My  Dear  Friexds  :  We  all  read  the  Scriptures ;  but  of 
the  many  who  read  them,  how  few  there  are  who  take  the 
trouble  of  thinking  profoundl}^  on  what  they  read.  Any  one 
single  passage  of  the  Scriptures  represents,  in  a  few  words,  a 
portion  of  the  infinite  wisdom  of  the  Almighty  G-od.  Conse- 
quently, any  one  sentence  of  those  inspired  writings,  should 
furnish  the  Christian  mind  with  sufficient  matter  for  tliought 
for  many  and  many  a  long  day.  Now,  we,  Catholic  priests, 
are  obliged,  every *day  of  our  lives,  in  our  daily  "Office,"  to 
recite  a  large  portion  of  the  divine  and  inspired  Word  of 
God,  in  the  form  of  prayer.  Never  was  there  a  greater  mis- 
take than  that  made  by  those  who  think  that  Catliolics  do 
not  read  the  Sriptures.  "^  All  the  prayers  that  we,  priests,  have 
to  say — seven  times  a  day  approaching  the  Almighty  God, 
— are  embodied  in  the  Mords  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  ;  and 
not  only  are  we  obliged  to  recite  them  as  prayers,  but  we 
are  also  obliged  to  make  them  the  sulject  of  our  daily  and 
our  constant  thought.  I  purpose,  therefore,  in  approaching 
this  great  subject  of  the  "Attributes  of  Christian  Charity," 
to  put  before  you  a  text  of  Scripture  which  many  of  you 
have,  no  doubt,  read  over  and  over  again;  viz. :  the  first 
verse  of  the  fortieth  psalm,  in  which  the  Psalmist  says: 
"Blessed  is  the  man  that  understandeth  concerning  the 
needy  and  the  poor." 

Now,  if  you  reflect,  my  dear  friends,  you  will  find  that,  at 
first  sight,  it  seems  strange  to  speak  of  that  man  as  "  bless- 
ed "  that  understandeth  concerning  the  needy  and  the  poor ; 
there  seems  to  be  so  little  mystery  about  them.  They  meet 
us  at  every  corner :  put  their  wants  and  their  necessities 
before  us ;  they  force  the  sight  of  their  misery  upon  our  eyes  j 
— and  the  most  fastidious  and  the  most  unwilling  are  obliged 


THE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  CATSOLIC  CHARITY.        181 

to  look  upon  their  sorrows,  and  to  hear  the  voice  of  their 
comphiint  and  their  sufferings.  What  mystery  is  there,  then, 
in  the  needy  and  the  poor  f  What  mystery  can  there  be? 
And  yet,  in  the  needy,  and  the  poor,  and  the  stricken,  there 
is  so  profound  a  mystery  that  the  Almighty  God  declare«l 
that  few  men  understand  it ;  and  "  blessed"  is  he  that  is  able 
to  fathom  its  depths.  What  is  this  mystery  f  AVhat  is  this 
s\ibject, — the  one  which  I  have  come  to  explain  to  you  I  A 
deep  and  mysterious  subject; — one  that  presents  to  us  far 
more  of  the  wisdom  of  the  designs  of  God,  than  might  appear 
at  first.  What  is  the  mystery  which  is  hidden  in  the  needy 
and  the  poor,  and  in  which  we  are  pronounced  "  blessed  "  if 
we  can  only  understand  it  thoroughly,  and,  like  true  men, 
act  upon  that  understanding?  Let  me  congratulate  you, 
first,  that,  whether  you  imderstand  this  mystery  or  not,  your 
presence  here  to-night  attests  that  you  wish  to  act  upon  it ; 
that  yours  are  the  instincts  of  Christian  chaiity,  that  the 
needy  and  the  poor,  and  the  stricken  ones  of  God  have  only 
to  put  forth  their  claims  to  you,  at  the  pure  hands  of  these 
spouses  of  our  Lord ;  and  you  are  ready,  in  the  compassion 
and  the  tenderness  of  heart  which  is  the  inheritance  of  the 
children  of  Christ,  to  fill  their  hands,  that  yom'  blessings  may 
find  their  way  to  the  needy  and  the  poor. 

And  yet,  although  so  })rompt  in  answering  the  call  of 
chanty,  perhaps  it  will  interest  you,  or  instruct  you,  that  I 
should  invite  your  consideration  to  this  mystery.  What  is 
it?  In  order  to  comprehend  it,  let  us  reflect.  The  Apostle, 
St.  Paul,  writing  to  his  recently  converted  Christians,  lays 
down  this  great  rule  for  them :  That,  for  the  Christian  man, 
there  are  three  virtues  which  form  the  very  life  and  essence  of 
his  Cliristianity  ;  and  these  are, — not  the  virtues  of  prudence, 
nor  of  justice, *nor  of  high-mindedness,  nor  of  nobleness,  nor 
of  fortitude:  no;  but  they  are  the  supernatural  virtues  of 
Faith,  Hope,  and  Love."^  ^'Now,  there  remain  to  you, 
brethren,"  he  says,  "Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity, — tliese 
three;  but  the  greatest  of  these  is  Charity."  The  life  of 
the  Christian,  therefore,  must  be  the  life  of  a  believer — a 
"  man  of  Faith."  It  must  be  a  hopeful  life, — an  anticipative 
life — a  life  that  looks  beyond  the  mere  horizon  of  the  pre- 
sent time  into  the  far-stretching  eternity  that  goes  beyond 
it; — a  life  of  Hope;  but,  most  of  all,  it  must  be  a  life  of 
divine  love.     Those  are  the  three  elemeutsj  of  the  Clnistian 


182  FATHER  BUBKE'S  DISCOUBSES. 

character.  Nowadays  it  is  tlie  fasliion  to  pervert  these 
tliree  virtues.  The  man  of  faith  is  no  longer  the  simple 
believer.  Faith  means  a  bowing-down  of  the  intellect  to 
things  that  we  cannot  understand,  because  they  are  mysteries 
of  God.  But  the  idea  of  religion,  nowadays,  is  to  reason 
and  not  to  believe.  The  Apostle,  if  he  were  writing  to  the 
men  of  this  nineteenth  century,  w^ould  be  obliged  to  say : 
'^  Brethren,  now  there  remain  to  you  argument  and  reason," 
but  not  faith  5  for  faith  means,  in  words  of  the  same  Apostle, 
the  humbling,  unto  full  humiliation,  of  intelligence  before 
the  mj^stery  which  was  hidden  for  ages  with  Christ  in  Grod. 
"Faith,"  says  St.  Paul,  "is  the  argument  of  things 
that  appear  not."  The  Catholic  Chm-ch,  nowadays,  is 
called  the  enslaver  of  the  intelligence — the  incubus  upon  the 
mind  of  man.  And  why  ?  Because  she  asks  him  to  believe. 
Mind, — men  of  intelligence  who  listen  to  me, — because  she 
asks  man  to  believe  5  because  she  says  to  him,  "  My  son,  I 
cannot  explain  this  to  you  ;  it  is  a  mystery  of  God ; "  and 
there  is  no  faith,  where  there  is  no  mysteiy.  Where  there  is 
the  clear  vision,  the  comprehensive  conviction  of  the  intelli- 
gence, arising  from  argumentation  and  reason,  there  is  no 
sacrifice  of  the  intellect ; — there  is  no  Faith. 

Hope,  nowadays,  has  changed  its  aspect  altogether. 
Men  put  their  hopes  in  any  thing  rather  than  in  Christ.  It 
was  only  a  few  days  ago  T  was  speaking  to  a  very  intel- 
lectual man.  He  was  an  Unitarian — a  man  of  deep  learning 
and  profound  research.  Speaking  with  him  of  the  future,  he 
said  to  me  :  "  Oh,  Father,  my  future  is  the  ennoblement  of  the 
human  race ;  the  grandeur  of  the  ^  coming  man '  ■ — the  perfect 
development,  by  ever}^  scientific  attainment,  by  every  grand 
quality  that  can  ennoble  him,  of  the  man  who  is  to  be  formed 
out  of  the  civilization  and  the  progress  and  the  scientific 
attainments  of  this  nineteenth  century."  That  was  his 
language ',  and  I  answered  him  and  said :  "  My  dear  sir,  my 
hope  is  to  see  Cluist,  the  Son  of  God,  shining  forth  in  all  my 
fellow-men  here,  that  He  may  shine  in  them  for  ever  here- 
after.    I  have  no  other  hope." 

The  Charity  of  to-day  has  changed  its  aspect.  It  has 
become  a  mere  human  virtue.  It  is  compassionate,  I  grant 
yon;  but  not  ^dth  the  compassion  that  our  Lord  demands 
from  His  people.  It  is  benevolent,  I  am  willing  to  grant  you. 
We  live  in  an  age  of  benevolence.      I  bow  down  before 


THE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  CATHOLIC  CEABITY.        183 

tbat  human  virtue  ;  and  I  am  glad  to  behold  it.  I  was 
prond  of  my  fellow-men,  seeing  the  readiness  and  generosity 
with  wliich,  for  instance,  they  came  to  the  relief  of  the  great 
bnmed  city  on  the  sliores  of  the  northern  lake.  I  am  proud, 
when  I  coine  here,  to  hear  New  York  and  Jersey  City  and 
Hoboken  called  "  cities  of  charities."  It  is  the  gTandest  title 
that  they  could  have.  But  when  I  come  to  analyze  that 
charity— when  I  come  to  look  at  that  charity  through  the 
microscope  that  the  Son  of  God  has  put  in  my  hands,  viz. : 
— the  light  of  divine  faith, — I  find  all  the  divine  traits  dis- 
appear ;  and  it  remains  onl}'-  a  human  virtue  j  relieving  the 
poor,  yet  not  recognizing  the  virtue  that  reposes  in  them ; 
alleviating  their  sufferings,  touching  them  with  the  hand  of 
kindness  or  of  benevolence ;  but  not  with  the  reverential, 
loving  hand  of  faith  and  of  sacrifice. 

On  the  other  hand,  loudly  protesting  against  this  spirit  of 
om'  age,  which  admits  the  bad  and  spoils  the  good ;  which 
lets  in  sin,  and  then  tries  to  deprive  of  its  sacramental  nature 
the  modicum  of  virtue  that  remains ; — protestiDg  against  all 
this,  stands  the  great  Catholic  Church,  and  says ; — "  Children 
of  men,  children  of  God,  Faith,  Hope,  Charity  must  be 
your  life:  but  yoirr  Faith  and  your  Hope  must  be  the 
foundation  of  your  Charity  ;  for  the  greatest  of  these  virtues 
is  Charity." 

And  why  ?  What  is  Faith  ?  Faith  is  an  act  of  human 
intelligence ;  looking  up  for  the  light  that  cometh  from  on 
high — from  the  bosom  of  God,  from  the  Eternal  Wisdom  of 
God.  Recognizing  God  in  that  light.  Faith  catches  a  gleam 
of  Him  and  rejoices  in  its  knowledge.  'Hope  is  an  act  of  the 
will,  striving  after  God,  clinging  to  His  promises,  and  trying, 
by  realizing  the  conditions,  to  realize  the  glory  wdiich  is  the 
burden  of  that  promise.  Charity,  alone,  succeeds  in  laying 
hold  of  God.  The  God  of  whom  Faith  catches  a  glimpse, — 
the  God  after  whom  Hope  strains, — Charity  seizes  and  makes 
its  own.  And,  therefore,  ^^  the  greatest  of  these  is  Charity." 
When  the  veil  shall  fall  from  the  face  of  God,  and  M'hen  we 
shall  behold  Him  in  heaven,  even  as  He  is  and  as  He  sees 
us,  there  shall  be  no  more  Faith  :  it  shall  be  absorbed  in 
vision.  When  that  which  we  strain  after  and  hope  for  to- 
day shall  be  given  us,  there  shall  be  no  more  Hope  :  it  shall 
be  lost  in  fmidon.  '  But  the  Charity  that  seizes  upon  God 
to-day,   shall   hold  for  all   eternity.      Charity,  alone,  shall 


184  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

remain,  the  very  life  of  the  elect  of  God.   And,  therefore,  "  the 
greatest  of  these  is  Charity." 

Are  there  among  you,  this  evening,  any  who  are  not 
Catholics  I  If  there  be,  you  may  imagine  that,  because  I 
come  before  you  in  tiie  garb  of  a  Dominican  friar  of  the 
thirteenth  century, — with  seven  hundred  years  not  only  of 
the  traditions  of  holiness,  but  even  of  historic  responsibility 
on  my  shoulders,  in  virtue  of  the  habit  'that  I  wear, — you 
may  imagine  that  I  come  among  you,  perhaps,  with  an  alien- 
ated heart  and  embittered  spirit  for  those  without  the  pale 
of  my  holy,  great,  loving  mother,  the  Church  of  God — for 
which,  some  day,  God  grant  that  it  may  be  my  privilege  to 
die.  But,  no.  If  there  be  one  here  to-night,  who  is  not  a 
Catholic,  I  tell  him  that  I  love  in  him  every  virtue  that  he 
possesses.  I  tell  him,  '•  I  hope  for  you,  that  yon  will  draw 
near  to  the  light,  recognize  it,  and  enter  into  the  glorious 
halls  illuminated  by  the  Lamb  of  God — the  Jerusalem  of 
God  upon  earth,  which  needs  not  the  sun  nor  the  moon  ;  '  for 
the  Lamb  is  the  lamp  thereof.' "  And  most  assuredly  I  love 
him.  But  I  ask  you,  my  friends,  have  you  Faith  I  Have 
you  simple  belief,  the  bowing  down  of  the  intelligence  to  the 
admission  of  a  mystery  into  your  minds,  acknowledging 
its  truth, — while  you  cannot  explain  it  to  your  reason"? 
Have  you  Faith,  my  beloved? — the  Faith  that  humbles 
a  man — the  Faith  that  makes  a  man  intellectually  as  a 
little  child,  sitting  down  at  the  awful  feet  of  the  Saviom', 
speaking  to  that  child,  through  His  Church  ?  If  you  have 
not  this  Faith,  but  if  you  go  groping  for  an  argument  here 
or  an  argument  there,  trying  to  build  upon  a  human  foun- 
dation the  supernatural  structm'e  of  divine  belief, — then,  I 
ask  you,  how  can  you  have  Hope, — seeing  that  Almighty 
God  stands  before  you  and  says  :  '^  AVithout  Faith  it  is  im- 
possible to  please  Me ;  without  Faith  it  is  impossible  to  ap- 
proach Me  ;  without  Faith  you  must  be  destroyed ;  for  I 
have  said  it, — and  My  word  cannot  fail, — he  that  believeth 
not  shall  be  condemned."  And  if  you  have  not  Faith  and 
Hope, — the  foundation, — how  can  you  have  the  superstrac- 
ture  of  divine  Charity  ?  How  can  we  believe  God,  unless 
we  know  Him "?  How  can  we  love  Him,  unless  in  proportion 
as  we  know  Him  ?  ''  0  God,"  exclaimed  the  great  St. 
Augustine,  "  let  me  know  Thee,  and  know  Thee  well,  that 
1  may  love  Thee  and  love  Thee  well." 


THE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  CATHOLIC  CHARITY.        185 

Now,  these  being  the  three  virtues  that  belong    to   the 

Christian  character,  let  us  see  how  far  the  mystery  which  is 
in  the  needy  and  the  poor,  enters  into  tliese  considerations  of 
Faith,  Hope,  and  Love.  Certain  it  is  that  the  Charity  which 
the  Ahniglity  God  commands  us  to  have; — that  is  to  say, 
tiie  love  which  He  commands  us  to  have  for  Himself, — is 
united  to  the  other  commandment  of  the  love  that  the  Chris- 
tian man  must  have  for  his  neighbor.  Certain,  also,  it  is,  that 
the  poorer,  the  more  prostrate,  the  more  helpless  that  neigh- 
bor is,  the  strong^er  becomes  his  claim  upon  our  love.  Third- 
ly :  it  is  equally  certain  from  the  Scriptnres,  that  the  Charity 
must  not  be  a  mere  sentiment  of  benevolence,  a  mere  feeling 
of  compassion ;  but  it  must  be  the  strong,  the  powerful  hand 
extended  to  benefit,  to  console,  and  to  uplift  the  stricken,  the 
powerless,  and  the  poor.  "  For,"  says  St.  John,  "  let  us  not 
love  in  word  or  in  tongue ;  but  in  deed  and  in  truth."  And 
he  adds :  "  If  any  man  among  you  have  the  substance  of  this 
world,  and  shall  see  his  brother  needy,  and  poor,  and  in  w^ant, 
and  shall  give  him  not  of  those  things  that  he  hath,  how  doth 
the  Charity  of  God  abide  in  him  "l  "  Therefore  your  Charity 
must  be  a  practical  and  an  earnest  Charity. 

Such  being  the  precept  of  God  with  respect  to  the  needy  and 
the  poor,  let  us  see  how  far  Faith  and  Hope  become  the  sub- 
stratum of  that  Charity  which  must  move  us  towards  them. 
What  does  Faith  tell  us  about  these  poor  ?  If  we  follow  the 
example  of  the  world,  building  up  great  prisons,  paying 
physicians,  paying  those  whom  it  deems  worth  while  to  pay 
for  attending  the  poor,  the  sick,  and  the  sorrowful — if  we 
consult  the  world,  building  up  its  workhouses,  immuring  the 
poor  there,  as  if  poverty  were  a  crime, — separating  the  hus- 
band from  the  wife,  and  the  mother  from  her  children, — we 
see  no  trace  here  of  divine  Faith.  And  why?  Because 
divine  Faith  must  always  respect  its  object.  Faith  is  the 
virtue  by  which  we  catch  a  gleam  of  God.  Do  we  catch  a 
gleam  of  Him  in  His  poor  ?  If  so,  they  enter  into  the 
arrangement  of  divine  Charity.  Now,  I  assert,  that  the  poor 
of  God,  the  afflicted,  the  heart-broken,  the  sick,  the  sorrow- 
ful— represent  our  Lord  Jesus  Ciirist  upon  this  earth.  Christ, 
our  Lord,  declared  that  He  would  remain  upon  the  earth  and 
would  never  leave  it.  '^  liehold,"  He  said,  "I  am  with  you 
all  days  unto  the  consummation  of  the  world."  Now,  in 
three  ways  Christ  fulfilled  that  promise.     First  of  all,  He 


186  FATHER  BUEKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

fulfilled  it  in  remaining  wdth  his  Ohiircli — the  abiding  Spirit 
of  Truth  and  Holiness — to  enable  that  Church  to  be,  until 
the  end  of  time,  the  infallible  messenger  of  divine  truth  ;  that 
is  to  say,  the  light  of  the  world — the  unceasing  and  laborious 
sanctifier  of  all  mankind.  ^'  You  are  the  light  of  the  world," 
says  Christ;  "you  are  the  salt  of  the  eaiih.  You  are  not 
only  to  illumine,  but  you  are  to  save  and  to  purify.  In  order 
that  you  may  do  this,  I  will  remain  with  j^ou  all  days." 
Therefore,  is  He  present  in  the  Church.  Secondly,  He  is 
present  in  the  adorable  Sacrament  of  the,  altar,  and  in  the 
tabernacles  of  the  Church — really  and  truly — as  really  and 
truly  as  He  is  upon  the  right  hand  of  His  Father,  There- 
fore He  said,  "  I  will  remain."  And  He  indicated  how  He 
was  to  remain  when,  taking  bread  and  wine,  He  transub- 
stantiated them  into  His  body  and  blood,  saying,  over  the 
bread,  "  This  is  My  body,"  and  over  the  wine,  "  This  is  My 
blood."  But  in  both  these  ways  Christ,  our  Lord,  remains 
invisibly  upon  the  earth.  No  man  sees  Him.  We  know 
that  He  is  present  in  the  Church ;  and,  therefore,  when  the 
Church  of  God  speaks,  we  bow  down  and  say,  "  I  believe, 
because  I  believe  and  I  know  that  the  voice  that  speaks  to 
me  reechoes  the  voice  of  my  God,  the  God  of  Truth."  When 
Christ,  om'  Lord,  is  put  upon  that  altar,  and  lifted  up  in  the 
hands  of  the  priest — lifted  up  in  holy  benediction,  we  bow 
down  and  adore  the  present  God,  saying  :  "  I  see  Thee  not, 
O  Lord,  but  I  know  that  behind  that  sacramental  veil  Thon 
art  present  upon  Thv  altar,  for  Thou  hast  said  :  Lo,  I  am 
here  !     This  is  My  body  !     This  is  My  blood  !  " 

But,  in  a  third  way,  Christ  om'  Lord  remains  upon  earth 
— ^^dsibly,  and  no  longer  invisible.  And  in  that  third  way 
He  remains  in  the  persons  of  the  poor,  the  sick,  and  the 
afflicted.  He  identifies  Himself  with  them.  Not  only 
dining  the  thirty-three  years  of  His  mortal  life,  when  He  was 
poor  with  the  poor,  when  He  was  sorrowful  and  afflicted  with 
the  sorrowful,  when  He  bore  the  burden  of  their  poverty  and 
the  burden  of  our  sins  on  His  owm  shoulders ; — not  only  was 
His  place  found  among  the  poor, — He  who  said:  "The 
birds  of  the  air  have  their  nests,  the  beasts  of  the  field  and 
the  foxes  have  their  holes ; — but  the  Son  of  Man  hath  no 
])lace  whereon  to  lay  His  head ! "  Not  only  was  He  poor 
from  the  day  that  He  was  born  in  a  stable,  until  the  day 
when,  dying  naked  upon  the  cross,  for  pure  Charity,  He  got 


THE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  CATHOLIC  CHARITY.        187 

a  place  in  another  man's  grave ; — but  He  also  vouchsafed  to 
identify  Himself  with  His  poor  until  the  end   of  time,   as 
though  He  had  said  :     "  Do  you  wish  to  find  Me?     Do  you 
wish  to  touch  ]\Ie  with  your  hands  ?     Do  you  wish  to  speak 
to  Me  words  of  consolation  and  of  love?     0  Christian  man, 
go  seek  the  poor  and  the  naked,  the  sick,  the  hungry,  and 
the  famishing  ; — seek  the  afflicted  and  the  heart-broken  5  and 
in  them  you  wall  find  Me.    For,  amen,  I  say  unto  3'ou,  what- 
soever you  do  unto  them,  that  you  do  also  unto  me !"     Thus 
does  Christ,  our  Lord,  identify  Himself  with  the  poor  and 
the  Chm'ch.     He  remains  in  the  world,  in  His  Church,  com- 
manding that  we  shall  obey  her : — for  He  is  God.     In  His 
sacramental  presence  we  may  adore  Him :  He  is  God.     In 
His  poor, — in  the  afilicted,  naked,  hungry,  famishing,  we  may 
bend  down   and  lift  Him  up :    He  is  God  still.      A  most 
beautiful  example  of  how  the  Saints  were  able  to  realize  this, 
do  we  find  recorded  in  the  life  of  one  of  the  beautiful  saints 
of  our  Dominican  Order — a  man  who  wore  tliis  habit.     He  , 
was  a  Spanish  friar.     His  name  was  Alvarez  of  Cordova. 
He  was  noted  among  his  brethren  for  the  wonderful  earnest- 
ness and  cheerfulness  with  which  he  always  sought  the  poor 
and  the  afflicted,  to  succor  and  console  them.     Well,  it  hap- 
pened upon  a  day  that  this  man  of  God,  absorbed  in  God  and 
in  prayer,  went  forth  from  his  convent  to  preach  to  the  people, 
and,  as  he  journeyed  along  the  high-road,  he  saw,  stretched 
helplessly  by  the  roadside,  a  man  covered  with  a  hideous 
leprosy, — ulcerated  from  head  to  foot, — hideous  to  behold  ] — 
and  this  man  turned  to  him  his  languid  eyes,  and,  with  faint 
voice,  appealed  to  him  for  mercy  and  succor.     The  sun,  in  all 
its  noonday  fervor,  was   beating   down  fiercely  upon    that 
stricken  man's  head.     He  was  unable  to  move.     Every  man 
that  saw  him  fled  from  him.     The  moment  the  Saint  saw  him 
he  went  over  to  him  and  knelt  down  by  his  side,  and  he 
kissed  the  sores  of  the  leprous  man.     Then,  taking  ofi"  the 
outer  portion  of  our  habit — this  black  cloak — he  laid  it  upon 
the  ground,  and  he  tenderly  took  the  poor   man  and  folded 
him  in  the  cloak,  lifted  him  in  his  arms,  and  returned  to  his 
convent.     He  entered  the  convent.     He  brought  the  leper 
to  his  own  cell,  and  laid  him  on  his  own  little  conventual 
bed.     And,  having  laid  him  there,  he  went  off  to  find  some 
refreshments  fur  him,  and  such  means  as  he  could  for  consol- 
ing, him.     He   returned   wdth  some  food  and   drink  in  his 


188  FATHER  BUEEE'S  DISCOURSES. 

hands,  laid  them  aside,  went  over  to  the  bed,  and  there  he 
fonud  the  sick  man.  He  unfokled  the  chjak  that  was 
wrapped  around  him.  Oh  !  ^\  hat  is  this  that  he  behokls  f 
The  man's  liead  A\ears  a  crown  of  thorns ;  on  his  hands  and 
his  feet  are  the  marks  of  nails  j  and  forth  from  his  wounded 
side  streams  the  fresh  blood  !  He  is  dead  ]  but  the  marks 
of  the  Saviour  are  upon  him  ;  and  then  the  Saint  knew  that 
the  man  whom  he  had  lifted  up  from  the  roadside  was  Christ 
his  Lord  and  his  God !  And  so,  with  the  eyes  of  fiiith,  do 
we  recognize  Christ  in  His  poor. 

What  follows  from  this  ?  It  follows,  my  friends,  that  the 
man  who  thus  sees  his  God  in  the  poor,  who  looks  upon 
them  with  the  eyes  of  Faith,  who  recognizes  in  them  some- 
thing sacramental,  the  touch  of  which  will  sanctify  him  who 
approaches  them  j — that  that  man  wdll  approach  them  with 
tenderness  and  with  reverence  :  that  he  will  consult  their 
feelings — that  he  will  seek  to  console  the  heart  while  he  re- 
,  vives  the  body  ]  and  while  he  puts  meat  and  drink  before 
the  sick  man,  or  the  poor  man,  he  will  not  put  away  from 
his  heart  the  source  of  his  comfort.  He  will  not  separate 
him  from  the  wdfe  of  his  bosom  or  the  children  of  his  love. 
He  will  not  relieve  him  with  a  voice  unmindful  of  compassion  ; 
bending  down,  as  it  were,  to  relieve  the  poor.  No  ;  but  he 
will  relieve  him  in  the  truth  of  his  soul,  as  recognizing  in 
that  man  one  who  is  identified,  in  the  divinity  of  love  and 
of  tenderness,  with  his  Lord  and  Master. 

This  explains  to  you  the  fact,  that  wdien  the  high-minded, 
the  highh^-educated,  the  noblest  and  best  of  the  children  of 
the  Catholic  Church — the  young  lady  with  all  the  prospects 
of  the  world  glittering  before  her;  with  fortune  and  its  enjoy- 
ments aroimd  her ;  with  the  beauty  of  nature  and  of  grace 
beaming  from  her  pure  countenance  ; — when  the  young  Jady, 
enamored  of  heaven,  and  of  the  things  of  heaven,  and  dis- 
gusted with  the  world,  comes  to  the  foot  of  the  sanctuary, 
and  there,  kneeling,  seeks  a  place  in  the  Church's  holy  places, 
and  an  humble  share  in  her  ministrations,  the  Church  takes 
her — one  of  these — her  holiest,  her  best,  her  purest,  and  she 
considers  that  she  has  confeiTed  the  higliest  honor  upon  the 
l»est  of  her  children,  when  she  clothes  her  with  the  sacred 
habit  of  religion,  and  tells  her  to  go  and  take  her  place  in 
the  hospital,  or  in  the  poorhouse,  or  in  the  infirmary,  or  in  the 
orphanage,  and  sit  down  and  minister  to  the  poor;  not  as 


THE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  CATHOLIC  CHARITY.        189 

relieving  tliem,  but  as  humbly  serving  them ;  not  as  com- 
passionating them,  but  as  approaching  them  with  a>i  almost 
infinite  reverence,  as  if  she  were  approa(;hing  Christ  himcelf. 

Thus,  do  we  see  how  the  Catholic  virtue  of  Charity  springs 
from  heaven.  All  tenderness  of  heart,  all  b'-.'n('Volence,  all 
conipassion,  nmst  be  there, — as  no  doubt  it  is, — in  the  hearts 
of  the  consecrated  virgins,  who,  in  order  that  they  might  love 
Christ  and  His  poor  all  the  more  tenderly,  all  the  more 
strongly,  vowed  to  the  Saviour,  at  His  altar,  that  no  love 
should  enter  into  their  bosoms,  no  eni()ti(ms  of  affection 
should  ever  thrill  their  hearts,  except  love  for  Him  ;  for  Him, 
Avherever  they  found  Him  :  and  they  have  foimd  Him  in 
His  poor  and  in  His  sick.  All  the  tenderest  emotions  of 
human  benevolence,  of  human  compassion,  of  human  gen- 
tleness may  be  there.  All  that  makes  the  good  Protestant 
lady, — the  good  infidel  lady,  if  you  will, — so  compassionate 
to  the  poor; — yet  whilst  the  worldling,  and  those  without 
the  Church  bend  down  to  an  act  of  condescension  in  their 
charity,  these  spouses  of  the  Son  of  God  look  up  to  the  poor, 
and  in  their  obedience  seek  to  serve  them  ;  for  their  com- 
passion, their  benevolence,  their  divinely  tender  hearts,  are 
influenced  by  the  divine  faith  which  recognizes  the  Son  of 
God  in  the  pers(ms  of  the  poor  and  the  needy,  the  stricken, 
and  the  afflicted. 

This  is  the  Catholic  idea  of  Charity  in  its  associations. 
What  follows  from  this!  It  follows,  that  when  I,  or  the 
like  of  me,  who,  equally  with  these  holy  women,  have  given 
our  lives,  and  our  souls,  and  our  bodies  to  the  service  of  the 
Son  of  God  and  of  His  Church,  when  we  come  before  our 
Catholic  brethren  to  speak  to  them  on  this  great  question  of 
Catholic;  Charity,  we  do  not  come  as  preaching,  praying, 
beseeching,  begging.  Oh,  no  !  But  we  come  with  a  strong 
voice  of  authority,  as  commanding  you,  "  If  you  would  see 
the  Father's  brightness,  remember  the  })oor,  and,  at  your  peril, 
surround  them  with  all  the  ministrations  of  charity  and  of 
mercy." 

And  how  does  Hope  enter  into  these  considerations  !  Ah, 
my  friends,  what  do  you  hope  for  at  all  f  What  are  your 
hopes?  I  ask  the  Christian  man,  the  benevok'ut  brother, 
— I  do  not  care  what  religion  you  are  of:  Brother,  tell  me 
your  hope;  because  Hope  from  its  very  nature  goes  out  into 
the  future  ;  Hope  is  a  realizing,  by  anticipation,  of  that  which 


190  FA  THEB  B  UBKE'S  DISCO  UESES. 

will  one  day  come  and  be  in  our  possession.     What  are  your 
hopes?    ^E very  man  has  Lis  hopes.     No  man  lives  without 
them.     Every  man  hopes  to  attain  to  some  position  in  this 
world,  or  to  gain  a  certain  happiness.     One  man  hopes  to 
make  money  and  become  a  rich  man.     Another  man  aspires 
to  certain  dignities,  hopes  for  them,  and  labors  assiduously 
until  he  attains  them.     Another  man  centres  his  hopes  in 
certain  passions,  and  immerses  himself  in  the  anticipation  of 
sensual  delights.     But  I  do  not  care  what  your  hopes  are ; 
this  I  ask  you  :  are  your  hopes  circumscribed  by  this  world, 
or  do  they  go  beyond  the  tomb  1    Is  all  Hope  to  cease  when 
the  sad  hour  comes  that  will  find  each  and  every  one  of  you 
stretched  helpless  on  his  bed  of  death,  and  the  awful  Angel, 
beaiing  the  summons  of  God,  cries  out,  "  Come  forth,  0  soul, 
and  come  with  me  to  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ!"     Is  all 
Hope  to  perish  then  ?     No  ;  no  !  but,  for  the  Christian,  the 
realization  of  Hope  begins  then.     No,  this  life  is  as  nothing 
compared  with  that  endless  eternit}^  that  awaits  us  beyond 
the  grave  j  and  there  all  our  hopes  are  ;  and  the  Hope  of  the 
Christian  man  is  that,  when  that  hour  comes  that  shall  find 
his  soul  trembling  before  its  impending  doom,  awaiting  the 
sentence — that  that  sentence  will  not  be,  "■  Depart  from  me, 
accursed,"  but  that  it  will  be,  ''  Come,  my  friend,  my  blessed 
one,  come  and  enjoy  the  happiness  and  the  delight  wdiich 
were  prepared  for  thee  !  "   Tliis  is  our  Hope.     Accursed  is 
the  man  who  has  it  not.      Miserable  is  the  wretch  that  has  it 
not !     What  would  this  life  be — even  if  it  were  a  life  of  ten 
thousand  years,  replete  with  every  pleasure — every  enjo^^ment 
. — unmixed  1)}^  the  slightest  evil  of  sickness  or  of  sorrow, — if 
we  knew  that,  at  the  end  of  those  ten  thousand  years,  the 
eternity  beyond,  that  should  never  know  an  end,  was  to  be  for 
us  an  eternity  of  sorrow  and  of  despair  ?     We  should  be,  of 
all  men,  the  most  miserable.     ''  For,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  if 
in  this  life  only  we  have  hope  in  Christ,  we  are,  of  all  men, 
the  most  miserable.     But,"  he  adds,    "  Christ  is  risen  from 
the  dead, — our  hope  ;  "   and  our  hope  is  to  rise  with  Him  j 
translated  from  glory  unto  glory,  until  we  behold  His  face, 
unshrouded  and  unveiled,  and  be  happy  for  ever  in  the  con- 
templation of  God. 

This  is  our  Hope  :  yours  and  mine.  But  remember  that, 
although  the  Almighty  God  has  promised  this,  and  our  Hope 
is  built  upon  the  fidelity  with  which  He  keeps  His  word,  no 


THE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  CATHOLIC  CHARITY.        191 

man  can  expect  the  reward,  nor  can  build  up  liis  Hope  on  a 
solid  foundation,  unle'ss  lie  enters  into  the  designs  of  God, 
and  complies  with  the  conditions  that  God  has  attached  to 
His  promises  of  glory.  What  are  these  conditions  ?  Think 
how  largely  the  poor  and  the  afflicted  enter  into  them ! 
"  Come,"  the  Redeemer  and  Judge  will  say,  "  Come  unto  me, 
ye  blessed  of  my  Father !  Tliis  is  not  the  first  time  that  you 
have  seen  me.  I  was  hungry,  and  you  gave  me  to  eat !  I 
was  thirsty,  and  you  gave  me  to  drink  !  I  was  naked,  and 
you  clothed  me !  I  was  sick,  and  you  visited  me  and  con- 
soled me  !  "  And  then  the  just  shall  exclaim  :  '^  Lord  !  when 
did  we  ever  behold  Thee — O  powerful  and  terrible  Son  of 
God  !  when  did  we  behold  Thee  naked,  or  hungry,  or  sick  f "' 
And  He,  answering,  will  call  the  poor, — the  poor  to  whom 
we  minister  to-day ;  the  poor  whom  we  console  to-day ; 
whose  drooping  heads  we  lift  up  to-day, — He  will  call  them, 
and  say :  "  Do  you  know  these  ?  "  And  they  will  cry  out  : 
"  Oh,  yes  J  these  are  the  poor  whom  we  saw  hungry,  and  we 
fed  them ;  whom  we  saw  naked,  and  we  clothed  them  ;  whom 
we  saw  sick,  and  we  consoled  and  visited  them.  Tliese  are 
the  poor  that  we  were  so  familiar  with,  and  that  we  employed, 
Thy  spouses,  0  Christ,  to  minister  unto,  and  to  console ! " 
Then  He  will  answer,  and  say :  ''  I  swear  to  you  that,  as  I 
am  God,  as  often  as  you  have  done  it  to  the  least  of  these, 
you  have  done  it  unto  Me  !  "  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we 
come  before  Him,  glorying  in  the  strength  of  our  Faith, — 
magniloquent  in  our  professions  of  Christianity, — splendid  in 
our  assumption  of  the  highest  principles, — correct  in  many  of 
the  leading  traits  of  the  Christian  character, — but  with  hands 
empty  of  the  works  of  mercy ;  if  we  are  only  obliged  to  say 
with  truth  :  "  Lord,  I  claim  heaven  ;  but  I  never  clothed  the 
naked ;  I  never  lifted  up  the  drooping  head  of  the  ^ick  and 
the  afflicted — ''  Christ,  our  Lord,  will  answer  and  say : 
^'  Depart  from  me  !  I  do  not  know  you ;  I  do  not  recognize  you. 
I  was  hungry,  and  you  would  not  feed  me  in  my  hunger  j  I 
was  naked,  and  you  would  not  clothe  me  in  my  nakedness ; 
I  was  thirsty  and  sick,  and  you  would  not  relieve  me,  or  con- 
sole me  in  my  sickness."  And  the  unjust  will  answer: 
''  Lord,  we  never  saw  Thee  hungry,  or  naked,  or  sick." 
And  then,  once  more,  will  He  call  the  poor,  and  say: 
'^  Behold  these ;  to  these  did  you  refuse  ycur  mercy,  your 
pity,  your  charity  j  and  I  swear  to  you  that,  as  I  am  God,  in 


192  FATHER  BUBKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

the  day  that  you  refused  to  comfort,  and  to  succor,  and  to 
console  them,  Vou  refused  to  do  it  nnto  ihe.  Therefore,  there 
is  no  Heaven  for  you."  The  goklen  key  that  opens  the  gate 
of  Heaven  is  the  key  of  mercy  5  therefore,  He  will  say  : 
"As  often  as  you  are^nerciful  to  the  poor,  you  are  merciful 
to  ^[e.  I  have  said  :  blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall 
find  mere}'." 

Who,  therefore,  among  you,  believing  in  these  things,  does 
not  Recognize  that  there  is  no  true  Faith  that  does  not  recog- 
nize Christ  in  His  poor,  and  so  succor  them  with  veneration  j 
who  does  not  see  that  his  Hope  is  built  upon  the  relations 
which  are  established  between  him  and  the  poor  of  God, 
Thus,  out  of  this  Faith  and  out  of  this  Hope,  springs  the 
Charity  with  which  we  must  relieve  them. 

Now,  mark  how  beautifully  all  this  is  organized  in  the 
Catholic  Church!  There  is 'a  curious  expression  in  the 
Scriptures.  It  is  found  in  the  Canticles  of  Solomon,  where 
the  Spouse  of  the  King — that  is  to  say,  the  Church  of  God 
— among  other  things,  says  :  ^'  My  Lord  and  my  King  has 
organized  charity  in  me " — "  OnVmavit  in  me  caritatemP 
Thus  it  is  not  the  mere  temporary  flash  of  enthusiasm ;  it  is 
not  the  mere  passing  feeling  of  benevolence,  touched  by  the 
sight  of  their  misery,  that  influences  the  Catholic  Church ; 
but  it  is  these  promises  and  these  principles  of  the  Christian 
Faith,  recognizing  who  and  what  the  poor  are,  and  our 
Christian  Hope,  building  up  all  the  conditions  of  its  futiu'e 
glory  upon  this  foundation.  Therefore  it  is  that,  in  the 
Catholic  Church  alone,  is  found  the  grand,  organized  Charity 
of  the  world.  Nowhere,  without  her  pale,  do  you  find 
Charity  organized.  You  may  find  a  fair  and  beautiful 
ebullition  of  pity,  here  and  there ;  as  when  a  rich  man  dies 
and  leaves,  perhaps,  half-a-million  of  dollars  to  found  a 
hospital.  But  it  is  an  exceptional  thing,  my  dear  friends ; 
as  when  some  grand  lady,  magnificent  of  heart  and  mind — 
like,  for  instance,  Florence  Nightingale — devotes  herself  to 
the  poor ;  goes  into  the  hospitals  and  the  infirmaries  for  the 
wounded.  It  is  an  exceptional  case,  I  answer.  If  you  travel 
out  of  the  bounds  of  that  fair  and  beautiful  compassion  that 
runs  in  so  many  hearts,  and  if  you  go  one  step  farther  into 
the  cold  atmosphere  of  politicafor  State  charity,  there  is  not 
one  vestige  of  true  Charity  there ;  it  becomes  political 
economy.     The  State  believes  it  is  more  economical  to  pick 


THE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  CATHOLIC  CHARITY.        193 

up  tlie  poor  from  the  streets  and  lanes,  to  take  them  from 
their  sick  beds,  transferring  them  into  poorhonses  and 
hospitals,  and,  while  there,  overwhelming  them  with  the 
miserable  pity  that  patronizes,  making  its  gifts  a  cm'se 
and  not  a  blessing,  l)y  breaking  the  heart  while  it 
relieves  the  body.  Such  is  "  State  charity."  I  remember 
once,  in  the  city  of  Dublin,  I  got  a  sick  call.  It  was 
to  attend  a  poor  woman.  I  went,  and  found,  in  a  ]>ack 
lane  in  the  city,  a  room  in  a  gaiTet.  I  climbed  up  to  the 
place.  There  I  found,  without  exaggeration,  four  bare  walls, 
and  a  woman  seventy -live  years  of  age,  covered  with  a  few 
squalid  rags,  and  lying  on  the  bare  floor  :  not  as  much  as 
a  little  straw  had  she  under  her  head.  I  asked  for  a  cup 
to  give  her  a  drink  of  water.  There  was  no  such  thing  to 
be  had ;  and  there  was  no  one  there  to  give  it.  I  had  to  go 
out  and  beg  among  the  neighbors,  until  I  got  a  cupful  of 
cold  water.  I  put  it  to  her  dying  lips.  I  had  to  kneel  down 
upon  that  bare  floor  to  hear  that  dying  woman's  confession. 
The  hand  of  death  was  upon  her.  What  was  her  story  ? 
She  was  the  mother  of  six  children,  a  lady,  educated  in  a  lady- 
like manner ;  a  lady  beginning  her  career  of  life  in  afiluence 
and  in  comfort.  The  six  children  grew  up.  Some  married ; 
some  emigrated  ;  some  died  :  the  weak  and  aged  mother  was 
alone,  abandcmed,  and  forgotten :  and  now^,  she  was  literally 
dying,  not  only  of  the  fever  that  was  upon  her,  but  of  starva- 
tion !  As  I  knelt  there  on  the  floor,  and  as  I  lifted  her  aged, 
greyhaired  head  upon  my  hands,  I  said  to  her:  "Let  me,  for 
God's  sake,  have  you  taken  to  the  workhouse  hospital ;  at 
least,  you  will  have  a  bed  to  lie  upon  ! "  She  turned  and 
looked  at  me.  Two  great  tears  came  from  her  dying  eyes, 
as  she  said :  "  Oh,  that  I  should  have  lived  to  hear  a'Catho- 
lic  priest  talk  to  me  about  a  poorhouse  !  "  I  felt  that  I  had 
abnost  broken  this  failing  heart.  On  my  knees  I  begged 
her  pardon.  "  No,"  she  said,  "  let  me  die  in  peace  !  "  And 
there,  whilst  I  knelt  at  her  side,  her  afiiicted  and  chastened 
spirit  passed  away  to  God  :  but  the  taint  of  the  ''  charity  of 
the  State  "  was  not  upon  her. 

Now,  passing  from  this  cold  and  wicked  atmosphere  of 
political  economy  into  the  purer  and  more  genial  air  of 
benevolence,  charity,  and  tenderness — of  wdjicli  there  is  so 
much,  even  outside  the  Church, — we  enter  into  the  lialls  of 
the  Catholic  Church.       There,  among  the  varied  beauties, 


194  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

among  the  ^^consecrated  forms  of  loveliness"  with  which 
Christ  adorned  His  Chm'ch — we  find  tlie  golden  garment  of 
an  organized  charity.  We  find  the  highest,  the  best,  and 
the  pm:est,  devoted  to  its  service  and  to  its  cause.  We  find 
every  form  of  misery  which  the  hand  of  God,  or  the  malice 
of  man,  or  their  own  errors  can  attach  to  the  poor,  provided 
for.  The  child  of  misfortune  wanders  through  the  streets  of 
the  city,  wasting  her  young  heart,  polluting  the  very  air  that 
she  breathes, — a  living  sin  !  The  sight  of  her  is  sin — the 
thonglit  of  her  is  death  ! — the  touch  "of  her  hand  is  pollution 
unutterable !  No  man  can  look  upon  her  face  and  live  ! 
In  a  moment  of  divine  compassion,  the  benighted  and  the 
wicked  heart  is  moved  to  turn  to  Grod.  With  the  tears  of  the 
penitent  upon  her  young  and  sinful  face,  she  turns  to  the 
portals  of  the  Church;  and  there  at  the  very  threshold  of 
the  sanctuary  of  God,  she  finds  the  very  ideal  of  purity, — 
tlje  highest,  the  grandest,  the  noblest  of  the  Church's  chil- 
dren. The  woman  who  has  never  known  the  pollution  of  a 
wicked  thonglit, — the  woman  wlK>se  virgin  bosom  has  never 
been  crossed  by  the  shadow  of  a  thought  of  sin, — the  womau 
breatljing  purity,  innocence,  grace,  receives  the  woman  whose 
breath  is  the  pestilence  of  hell !  Extremes  meet.  Mary,  the 
Virgin,  takes  the  hand  of  Mary,  the  Magdalene;  and,  in  the 
organized  charity  of  the  Church  of  God,  the  penitent  enters 
in — to  be  saved  and  sanctified. 

The  poor  man,  worn  down  and  broken  by  poverty,  exposed 
in  his  daily  labor  to  the  winds  and  rains  of  Heaven,  with 
failing  health  and  drooping  heart,  lies  down  to  die.  There 
by  his  bedside  stands  the  wife,  and  round  her,  her  group  of 
little  children.  They  depend  upon  his  daily  labor  for  their 
daily  bread.  Now,  that  hand  that  labored  for  them  so  long 
and  so  lovingly,  is  palsied  and  stricken  by  his  side.  Now  his 
dying  eyes  are  grieved  with  the  sight  oi  their  misery.  His 
ears  are*^ filled  with  the  cry  of  the  little  ones  for  bread.  The 
despair  of  their  doom  comes  to  embitter  his  dying  moments. 
He  looks  from  that  bed  of  death  out  upon  the  gloomy  world. 
He  sees  the  wife  of  his  bosom  consigned  to  a  pauper's  cell,  to 
await  a  pauper's  grave  ;  and,  for  these  innocent  faces  that  sur- 
round him,  he  sees  no  future  but  a  future  of  ignorance  and  of 
crime  ; — of  punishment  without  hope  of  amendrnent  — and  of 
the  loss  of  their  souls  in  the  great  mass  of  the  world's  crimes 
and  misdeeds.  But,  while  he  is  thus  mournfully  brooding  with 


THE  ATTRLBUTES  OF  CATHOLIC  CHARITY.         195 

sacl  and  despairing  tlionglits,  what  figure  is  this  that  crosses 
the  threshold  and  casts  its  shadow  on  the  floor  of  the  house  f 
Who  is  this,  entering  noiselessly,  modestly,  silently,  shrouded 
and  veiled,  as  a  being  of  Heaven,  not  of  earth  ']  He  lifts  his 
eyes  and  he  beholds  the  mild  and  placid  face  of  the  Sister  of 
Mercy,  beaming  purity  mixed  with  divine  love  upon  him. 
Now  the  sunshine  of  God  is  let  in  upon  the  darkness  of  his 
despairing  soul.  Now  he  hears  a  voice  almost  as  gentle, 
almost  as  tender,  almost  as  powerful  as  the  voice  of  Him  who 
whispered  in  the  ear  of  the  Widow  of  Naim  :  ^^  Oh,  woman, 
weep  no  more  ! "  And  she  tells  him  to  fear  not ;  that  her 
woman's  hand  will  ensure  protection  for  his  children — and 
education,  grace,  virtue.  Heaven  and  God  !  I  once  remember 
I  was  called  to  attend  a  man,  such  as  I  have  endeavored  to 
describe  to  you.  There  were  seven  little  children  in  the 
house.  There  was  a  woman,  the  mother  of  those  children, 
the  wife  of  liim  who  was  dying  there.  Two  years  before 
this  man  had  fallen  from  a  scaffold,  and  was  so  shattered  that 
he  was  paralyzed ;  and  for  two  years  he  had  lain  upon  that 
bed  starving  as  well  as  dying.  When  I  was  called  to  visit 
this  man,  I  spoke  to  him  of  the  mercy  of  God.  He  looked 
upon  me  with  a  sullen  and  despainng  eye.  "  This  is  the  first 
time,"  he  said,  ^^  that  you  have  come  to  my  bed-side."  Said  I, 
"  3Iy  friend,  this  is  the  first  time  that  I  knew  ycm  were  sick. 
Had  I  known  it,  I  would  have  come  to  you  before."  ^^  No 
one  " — this  was  his  answer — ''  no  one  cares  iov  me.  And 
you  come  now  to  speak  to  me  of  the  mercy  of  God  !  I  have 
been  on  this  bed  for  more  tlian  two  years.  I  have  seen  that 
woman  and  her  children  starving  for  the  last  two  years. 
And  do  you  tell  me  that  there  is  a  God  of  Mercy  above  me"?" 
I  saw  at  once  it  was  a  case  with  which  I  could  not  deal.  I 
left  the  house  on  the  instant,  and  went  straight  to  a  convent 
of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  that  was  near.  There  I  asked  the 
Mother  Superior,  for  God's  sake,  to  send  one  or  two  of  the 
Nuns  to  the  house.  They  went.  Next  day  I  visited  him. 
Oh,  what  a  change  I  foun<l !  No  longer  the  dull  glance  of 
despair :  he  looked  up  boldly  and  cheerfidly  from  his  bed  of 
sorrow.  No  longer  raurmiuing  against  the  mercy  of  God, — 
but  with  the  deep  thankfulness  of  a  grateful  heart :  ''  Oli,'^ 
said  he,  ''  I  am  so  liappy.  Father,  that  I  sent  for  you, — not  so 
much  for  any  thing  you  can  do  for  me;  but  you  sent  me  two 
angels  of  God  from   Heaven  !     They  came   into  my  house  ) 


196  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

and,  for  the  first  time,  in  two  long  years,  I  learned  to  hope  j 
to  be  sorry  for  my  want  of  resignation  5  and  to  return  with 
love  to  that  God  whom  I  dared  to  doubt !"  Then  he  made 
his  confession,  and  I  prepared  him  for  death.  Patient  he 
was,  and  resigned ;  and,  in  his  last  moments,  when  his 
voice  was  faltering, — when  his  voice  became  that  of  the  de- 
parting spirit, — his  last  words  were:  ^^You  sent  tome  the 
angels  of  God, — and  they  told  me  that  when  I  should  be  in 
my  grave  they  would  be  mothers  to  my  children  !" 

O  fair  and  beautiful  Church,  that  knows  so  well  how  to 
console  the  afflicted,  to  bind  up  the  wounds  of  the  breaking 
heart,  to  lift  up  the  weary  and  drooping  head !  Every  fomi 
of  human  misery,  every  form  of  wretchedness,  whether  sent 
from  God  as  a  warning  or  a  trial,  or  coming  from  men's  own 
excesses  and  folly,  and  as  a  punishment  for  theh  sins, — 
every  form  of  human  misery  and  affliction,  as  soon  as  it  is 
seen,  is  softened  and  relieved  by  the  gentlest,  the  tenderest, 
the  sweetest  agency, — the  touch  of  God  through  His  con- 
secrated ones.  And  it  seems  to  the  sufferer  as  if  the  word  of 
the  promise  to  come  were  fulfilled  in  time, — the  word  which 
sa^^s :  "  The  Lord  Himself  will  wipe  away  every  tear  from 
the  eyes  of  His  elect,  and  will  bind  up  every  bleeding  and 
wounded  heart." 

And  thus,  my  friends,  we  see  how  beautifully  charity  is 
organized  in  the  Catholic  Church.  Not  one  penny  of  your 
charit}'^  is  wasted.  Ever}^  farthing  that  you  contribute 
will  be  expended  wisely,  judiciously;  and  extended  to  its 
fai'thest  length  of  usefulness  in  the  service  of  God's  poor 
and  of  God's  stricken  ones.  And  lest  the  poor  might 
be  humbled,  while  they  are  relieved  ;  lest  they  might  be 
hurt  in  their  feelings,  while  consoled  with  the  tem- 
poral doles  that  are  lavished  upon  them,  the  Church  of 
God,  with  a  wisdom  more  than  human,  appoints  as  her 
ministers  of  the  poor,  those  who,  for  the  love  of  Christ, 
have  become  poor  like  them.  Behold  these  nuns !  They 
are  the  daughters  of  St.  Francis.  Seven  hundred  years  ago 
now,  almost,  there  arose  in  the  city  of  Assisi,  in  Umbria,  in 
Italy,  a  man  so  filled  with  the  ineffable  love  of  Christ, — so 
impregnated  with  the  spirit  of  the  Son  of  God,  made  man, — 
that,  in  the  rapture  of  his  prayer,  the  stigmata — the  marks  of 
the  nails  upon  the  hands  and  feet,  of  the  thorns  upon  the 
brows,  of  the  wounds  upon  the  side  of  the  Redeemer, — were 


TEE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  CATHOLIC  CHAETTY.        197 

gi\^en  to  Francis  of  Assisi.  Men  beheld  him  and  started  from 
the  sight,  giving  glory  to  God  that  tliey  had  caught  a  gleam 
of  the  glory  of  Christ' upon  earth.  He  was  the  only  Saint  of 
whom  we  Vead,  that,  without  opening  his  lips,  but  simply 
coming  and  walking  through  the  ways  of  the  city,  all  eyes 
that  l)eheld  him  were  melted  into  tears  of  tenderness  and 
divine  love  :  and  he  '^  preached  Christ  and  Him  crucified,''  by 
merely  showing  the  mortification,  and  the  spirit,  and  the  love 
of  Christ  which  was  upon  him  and  in  him.  These  are  the 
daughters  of  this  Saint,  inheriting  his  spirit;  and  he,  in  the 
Church,  is  the  very  ideal  Saint  of  divine  and  religious 
povertv.  He  would  not  have  a  shoe  to  his  foot.  He  would 
not  have  a  second  coat.  He  would  not  have  in  liis  bag  pro- 
vision even  for  to-morrow  ;  but  waited,  like  the  Prophet  of  old, 
that  it  should  come  to  him  from  God,  at  the  hands  of  his 
benefactors, — the  very  ideal  Saint  of  poverty;  and,  there- 
fore, of  all  others,  the  most  devoted  in  himself,  and  in  having 
his  children  minister  unto  God's  poor.  When  there  was  a 
question  of  destroying  the  religious  Orders  in  Italy,_  and  of 
passing  a  law  that  would  not  permit  me,  a  Dominica,n,  or 
these  nuns,  Franciscans,  to  dwell  in  the  land,— just  as  if  we 
were  doing  any  harai  to  anybody ; — as  if  we  were  not  doing 
our  best  to  save  and  serve"^  all  the  people ; — when  it  was  a 
question  before  the  Parliament,  Caesare  Cantu,  the  celebrated 
historian,  stood  up  in  the  assembly  and  said  :  '^  Men  !  before 
you  make  this  law,  abolishing  all  the  religious  men  and 
women  in  the  land,  reflect  for  an  instant.  If  an}'-^  man 
among  you,  by  some  reverse  of  fortune,  become  poor, — if  any 
man  among  you,  in  this  enlightened  age,  be  obliged  to  beg 
his  daily  bread  ;  would  not  you  feel  ashamed — would  not 
you  feel  degraded  to  have  to  go  to  your  fellow-man  to  ask 
him  for  alms'?  For  me,  if  God  should  strike  me  with 
poverty,  I  would  feel  it  a  degradation.  But  I  would  not 
feel  it  a  degradation  to  go  to  a  Dominican  or  Franciscan, 
and  ask  him,  a  brother  pauper,  to  break  his  bread  with  me." 
It  is  fitting  that  the  voice  which  speaks  to  you  this  even- 
ings— although  it  comes  from  one  wearing  the  habit  of  St. 
Dominic,— should  speak  to  you  in  the  language  of  Saint 
Francis  of  Assisi,  who  was  the  bosom  friend  of  the  great 
Dominic  of  Guzman.  United  in  life  and  in  love  as  they 
were,  their  children  are  united  in  that  spiritual  love  which  is 
the  inheritance  of  God's  consecrated  ones  on  earth.     And, 


198  FATHEB  BUBEE'S  DISCOUBSES. 

therefore,  it  is  a  privilege  and  a  glory  to  me  to  speak  to  3^ou 
tliis  evening  on  behalf  of  my  Franciscan  sisters.  Yet,  not 
in  their  behalf  do  I  speak,  but  in  behalf  of  the  poor  ;  nor  in 
belialf  of  the  poor,  but  in  behalf  of  Christ,  who  identifies 
Himself  with  the  poor ;  nor  in  behalf  of  Him,  but  in  your 
own  behalf;  seeing  that  all  your  hopes  of  tlie  glory  of 
Heaven  are  bound  up  with  the  poor  of  whom  I  speak.  It 
is  your  ghjry,  and  the  glory  of  this  special  charity,  that  it 
-^\as  the  first  hospital  founded  in  this  State  ,'  that  at  a  time 
when  men,  concentrating  their  energies  to  amass  wealth, 
immersed  in  their  business,  trying  to  heap  up  accumulations, 
and  gather  riches  and  large  possessions,  never  thought  of 
their  poor  ;  or,  if  the  poor  obtruded  themselves,  brushed  them 
out  of  their  path,  and  told  them  to  begone  5  then  there  came 
the  Church  of  Christ  into  the  midst  of  you.  She  sought  not 
money,  nor  land,  nor  possessions.  She  brought  these  poor 
nuns,*  vowed  to  poverty,  despising  all  the  things  of  the  world, 
and  leaving  them  beliind  them  ;  she  built  up  her  hospital 
for  the  sick  ;  she  brought  her  children  of  St.  Francis  of 
Assisi,  to  minister  to  them,  in  mercy,  in  faith,  and  hope, 
and  in  the  gentleness  of  divine  charity.  Do  they  not  say  to 
you :  "  Blessed  is  the  man  that  understandeth  concerning 
the  needy  and  the  poor  "  ? 

I  hope  I  may  have  thrown  some  light  into  the  minds  of  even 
one  amongst  you,  this  evening,  and  let  him  see  how  blessed 
is  the  man  who  know^s  his  position  concerning  the  needy  and 
the  poor.  I  hope  that  those  to  whom  my  words  give  no  light, 
may,  at  least,  be  given  encouragement  to  persevere.  Per- 
severe, Catholics  o£  Hoboken  and  Jersey  City,  in  maintain- 
ing these  Sisters,  in  filling  their  hands  with  your  bene- 
factions ;  in  enabling  them  to  pursue  their  calm  but  glorious 
career  of  charity  and  of  mercy.  I  know^  that  in  thus  encourag- 
ing you,  I  am  advancing  the  best  interest  of  your  souls ;  and 
that  the  mite  that  you  give  to-day,  which  might  be  given  for 
pleasure  or  sinfulness, — that  that  mite  shall  return  to  you 
one  day  in  the  form  of  a  crowai,  the  crowni  of  glory  which 
will  be  set  upon  your  heads,  for  ever  and  for  ever,  before  the 
Throne  of  God,  by  the  hands  of  the  poor  of  Christ.  .Again, 
I  say  to  you,  will  you  hear  the  voice  from  tlie  Throne  : 
"Whatever  you  do  to  the  poor,  you  do  it  unto  Me"  f  Oh, 
may  God  send  down  His  angel  of  mercy ! — may  the  spirit 
of  *  His    mercy    breathe    amongst    us  ! — may    the    charity 


THE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  CJTffOLIC  CHARITY.        199 

Mliich  guides  your  mercy,  the  cliarity  springing  from 
an  enliglitened  and  pure  faith,  and  from  a  true  and  sub- 
stantial hope, — l[)ring  your  reward: — that  so,  in  the  day 
when  Faith  shall  ^lerish  with  time — when  Hope  shall  be  lost, 
either  in  joy  or  in  sorrow — either  in  the  fruition  of  Heaven, 
or  in  the  despair  of  hell, — that  on  that  day,  you  may  be  able 
to  exclaim,  when  you  first  catch  sight  of  the  unveiled  glory 
of  the  Saviour  :  '^  0  Christ,  of  all  the  beauties  of  God,  it  is 
true,  Hhe  greatest  is  Charity.' '^ 


THE    OATHOLIC    CHURCH    THE    TRUE 
EMANCIPATOR. 

lA  Lecture  delivered  ly  Very  Bev.  T.  N.  BurJce,  O.P.,  in  St.  Stephen's 
Church,  New  York,  April  30,  1872;  for  the  benefit  of  the  Mission  to  the 
Colored  Bace  in  America.^ 

My  Dear  Friends  :  I  come  before  you  this  evening  to 
assert  a  proposition  wliicli  would  require  no  proof,  if  all  men 
were  of  one  mind  regarding  tlie  claims  of  the  Catholic 
Church  to  be  the  Chuvch  of  Christ.  I  assert  for  the  Catholic 
Church  that  she  is  the  true  emancipator  of  the  slave  ;  and  I 
say  again,  that,  if  men  were  of  one  mind  touching  her  claims 
to*  be  the  true  Christian  Church,  this  proposition  would  re- 
quire no  proof ;  for  any  man  who  believes  in  the  agency  of 
Christ,  as  perpetuated  in  His  Church,  must  at  once  conclude 
that  one  of  the  highest  and  greatest  of  the  duties  of  that 
Church  is  the  duty  which  her  Divine  Founder  Himself  came 
to  accomplish,  viz:  the  work  of  emancipation.  He  came  and 
found,  not  this  race,  or  that, — not  this  class  or  order  of  men,  or 
tluit,— but  all  mankind,  and  all  races  of  men,  enslaved  in  the 
direst  form  of  slavery  ; — a  slavery  that  entered  into  their  very 
souls;  a  slavery  that  not  only  destroyed  their  freedom  of 
will,  but  also  clouded,  and  thereby  destroyed,  the  clearness 
of  tlieir  intelligence  ;  a  slavery  that  bound  them  helpless  at 
the  feet  of  the  most  cruel  of  all  masters ; — for  that  master  was 
no  other  than  the  devil,  the  prince  and  ruler  of  all  mankind, 
the  enslaver  of  the  intellect,*of  the  will,  and  of  the  soul  of 
man.  The  Prophet  of  old  had  foretold  of  our  Divine  Lord 
and  Redeemer,  that  He  came  to  break  the  chains  of  man's 
slavery,  to  emancipate  him,  to  take  him  from  out  that  deep 
and  temble  servitude  into  which  he  had  fallen,  and  to  endow 
him  once  more  with  •'  the  freedom  of  the  glory  of  the  chil- 
dren of  God.''  Therefore  He  came.  Among  all  the  other 
titles  that  belonged  to  Him  is  that,  preeminently,  of  the 
emancipator  of  an  enslaved  and  fallen  race.  And,  if  His 
action  is  to  continue  in  the  Church, — if  His  graces  are  to  How 


THE  CHURCH  THE  TRUE  EMANCIPATOR.  201 

on  tlironi^-h  tliat  Chnrcli,  and  His  lii^'lit  is  to  come  forth,  ])iire 
and  blight  and  radiant  in  the  Church  which  He  founded, — 
all  we  have  to  do  iwS  to  find  that  Church  ;  and,  bound  to  hor 
brows,  we  shall  find  the  crown  of  the  emancipator  of  the 
human  race.  That  Church  we  Catholics  know  and  believe 
to  be  the  ^Mother  that  has  begotten  us  unto  God,  through  the 
Gospel. . 

Now,  my  friends,  how  did  Christ  effect  the  work  of  His 
emancipation?  I  answer  that  He  emancipated  or  freed  the 
intelligence  of  man  from  the  slavery  of  the  intellect,  which 
is  error  j  and  that  He  emancipated  the  will  of  man  from  the 
slavery  of  the  will,  which  is  sin.  And  He  carefully  defined 
what  manner  of  freedom  He  came  to  found  and  confer,  when 
He  said  to  a  benighted  race,  whom  He  enlightened:  ^^You 
shall  know  the  tiuth,  and  the  truth  shall  make  you  free  ! " 
And,  to  a  degraded  and  corrupt  race,  He  said  :  "  I  am  come 
that,  where  sin  hath  abounded,  grace  might  abound  still  more;" 
and,  in  the  abundance  of  His  grace,  He  called  us  ^^unto  the 
freedom  of  the  children  of  God." 

Behold,  then,  the  elements  of  emancipation,  as  found  in 
the  actions  and  in  the  words  of  the  Son  of  God,  the  Re- 
deemer, the  Saviour,  and  the  Emancipator.  Truth  !  Truth 
broadly  diffused  ;  truth  borne  upon  the  wings  of  knowledge 
unto  every  mind.  Not  speculation,  but  truth  ;  not  opinion, 
but  knowledge  ;  not  study  of  the  truth,  but  possession  of  the 
truth.  There,  says  the  Son  of  God,  lies  the  secret  of 
your  intellectual  freedom.  Therefore  He  lifted  up  His  voice  ; 
He  flung  abroad  the  banner  of  His  eternal  truth  j  He  called 
all  men  to  hear  the  sound  of  His  voice,  and  to  rally  round 
the  standard  of  His  truth  and  of  His  knowledge.  And  the 
word  which  He  spoke  was  borne  upon  the  wings  of  the  An- 
gels for  all  future  time,  unto  the  farthest  ends  of  the  earth, 
upon  the  lips  of  the  preaching  and  infallible  Church  which 
He  founded.  I  say  the  ^'preaching  Church,"  which  He 
founded,  for  "Faith  conies  by  hearing;"  and  the  knowledge 
which  emanci})ates  the  intelligence  must  come  by  a  living 
voice.  But  I  add  : — as  no  other  knowledge  save  that  of  the 
pure  truth,  as  it  is  in  the  mind  of  Jesus  Christ,  thus  delivered 
l)y  a  living  voice,  can  emancipate  the  intelligence  of  man, 
therefore  the  voice  which  He  commanded  to  teach  the  world, 
must  bear  the  unfailing,  and  infallible,  and  uninixed  message 
of  the  truth  of  the  Linxl  Jesus  Christ.     For,  if  that  voice  can 


202  FATHER  BUBEE'S  DISCOURSES. 

admit  the  slightest  blending  of  error, —  if  that  voire  can  fal- 
ter in  the  delivery  of  the  truth,  or  mix  up  the  slightest  distortion 
of  error  with  that  truth, —  it  ceases  to  he  the  voice  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  it  only,  in  its  teachings,  suhstitutes  one  form  of 
slaverv  for  another.  Oh,  if  the  men  of  our  day  would  only 
understand  this  !  if  the  men  who  boast  of  their  civilization 
would  only  understand  this, — that  whatever  is  not  the  truth 
is  not  the  voice  nor  the  message  of  God ; — whatever,  by  any 
possibility  can  be  untrue,  cannot  be  the  voice  of  God ; — if 
men  would  only  understand  this,  that  there  is  no  greater  in- 
sult than  we  can  offer  to  a  God  of  Truth  than  to  take  a  reli- 
gions lie — a  distorted  view — a  false  idea, — put  it  into  our 
minds,  and  say  ;  "•  This  is  the  truth  of  God  ;  this  is  religious 
truth  !  "  ButJ  no  !  We  boast  to-day  of  our  liberality  ;  we 
boast  to-day  of  the  multitude  of  our  sects  and  of  our  religious 
institutions';  we  boast  to  day  of  an  open  Bible  from  which 
every  man  drawls — not  the  word  of  God, — for  I  deny  that  it 
is  the  Word  of  God  ;— it  is  the  Word  of  God  only  when  it  is 
taken  from  that  page  as  it  lies  in  the  mind  of  God ; — we 
boast  to-day  that  that  Bible  is  open  to  every  man  to  look  in 
it  for  the  canonization  of  his  own  eiTor,  lying  in  the  distorted 
meaning  which  he  gives  to  that  divinely-inspired  page ; — 
and  then  we  pretend  that  all  this  is  a  mark  of  religion  :  and 
the  man  who  would  indignantly  resent  a  lie,  told  him  in  the 
ordinary  avocations  and  social  duties  of  life; — the  man  who 
Mould  resent,  as  a  deep  injury,  being  taken  in  in  a  matter  of 
business,  in  the  furnishing  of  an  account,  or  any  such  transi- 
tory thing, — that  man  is  precisely  the  one  that  is  most  indif- 
ferent, and  careless,  and  most  easily  reconciled,  when  it  is  a 
matter  that  lies  between  him  and  the  God  of  Truth,  whether 
he  possesses  that  truth  or  not.  Yet,  I  say  again,  it  is  a  dis- 
reputable thing  to  be  taken  in  by  a  lie — to  believe  a  lie. 
It  is  a  mark  of  intellectual  and  moral  imbecility  to  cling  to  a 
lie,  and  to  uphold  it  as  the  truth.  And  remember  that,  when 
it  is  a  matter  between  us  and  God — the  interpretation  of  the 
message  of  God — the  tone  that  the  voice  of  God 'takes  in 
falling  upon  our  ear, — remember  that  whatever  is  not  true  as 
God, "is  the  worst  form  of  untruth^or,  a  lie ;  and  that  the 
truth  of  God  is  declared,  by  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  to  be 
the  essential,  primary  element  of  that  emancipation  with 
M-hich  Jesus  Christ  came  down  to  free  us. 

But,  dear  friends,  grand  and  magnificent  as  is  the  possession 


THE  CHURCH  THE  TRUE  EMANCIPATOR.         203 

of  that  trath, — luminous  as  is  tlie  light  which  is  poiu-ed 
into  the  soul  from  Almighty  God,  through  the  eyes  of 
the  mind,  opening,  as  it  were,  to  the  illumination  of 
Divine  truth, — it  is  not  enough  to  accomplish  the  free- 
dom of  man.  The  soul  of  freedom  lies  not  only  in  the 
mind  possessing  truth,  and  thus  shaking  off  the  chains  of  in- 
tellectual slavery,  which  is  error ;  but  it  also  lies  in  the  will, 
sanctified,  strengthened,  and  purified  by  the  divine  grace  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Of  what  avail  wcjuld  it  be  to  you,  my  fellow- 
men,  or  to  me,  that  we  should  know  all  knowledge — that 
we  should  have  all  knowledge — if  a  man  is  a  slav^e  to  liis 
own  passions — if  every  degrading  passion  and  inclination  of 
a  base  or  an  inferior  nature  has  only  to  crv  out  imperiouslv 
to  be  instantly  served  and  gratified  at  the  expense  of  the 
soul's  nobility  and  life,  and  at  the  expense  of  God's  friendship 
and  His  grace  !  Of  what  avail  is  knowledge  to  a  man,  if 
that  man  be  impure?  Of  what  avail  are  the  soundest  prin- 
ciples or  examples,  moral  ot  divine,  to  that  man  who,  holding 
them,  does  not  act  up  to  them,  but  is  dishonest  ?  And  there- 
fore, there  is  another  and  a  more  terrible  slavery,  even  than 
that  of  the  intellect  j  and  that  is  the  slavery  of  the  will. 
Now,  to  meet  this,  Christ  our  Lord,  the  divine  healer,  the 
divine  physician  of  our  souls,  established  certain  means  by 
which  His  grace,  His  strength.  His  purity,  were  to  be  com- 
municated to  us,  to  our  wills,  just  as,  by  the  preaching  of  the 
Gospel  in  the  Church,  her  light  is  communicated  to  our  in- 
telligence. And  these  means  are  the  sacred  morality  of  the 
Church's  laws  ;  the  sacred  bamers  that  she  uprears  between 
the  soul  and  sin  ;  the  sacramental  graces  that  she  pours  forth 
to  heal  the  soul,  and  purify  it,  and  cleanse  it  again,  if  it  be 
tainted  and  sullied  by  sin  ;  the  agencies  that  she  holds  in  her 
hands  to  preserve  that  soul  from  a  relapse  into  sin,  strength- 
ening it  so  that  it  is  able  to  command  all  its  passions,  to 
repress  all  undue  and  corrupting  inclinations,  to  give  a  tri- 
umph to  the  spirit  over  matter — to  the  soul  over  the  body ; 
— until  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  not  ouly  the  fountain 
of  all  truth,  but  the  Creator  of  all.h(diness,  and  its  representa- 
tive, be  reproduced  in  the  souls  of  all  His  children,  and  a 
perfect  people  be  reared  up  in  sanctity  to  God. 

Without  this  grace  of  the  heart  and  the  will,  there  is  no 
freedom.  Without  the  agency  of  the  Church,  I  say,  as  a  rule, 
there  can  be  no  grace.     Without  her  Sacranients,  the  will  of 


204  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

man — the  will  of  man  A\liicli  may  be  enslaved — ^the  will  of 
man  which  is  enslaved  whenever  man  is  in  sin — can  never  be 
touched ;  for  the  sacramental  hand  of  the  Church  alone  can 
touch  it.  And,  here,  again,  as  the  word  of  the  Church's 
teaching  must  be  no  other  than  the  word  of  Jesus  Christ 
Himself, — not  only  as  it  is  written  in  the  inspired  volumes,  but 
as  it  lies  in  the  mind  of  God,  and,  therefore,  as  the  Church  is 
l)Ound  to  explain  it  5 — so,  also,  the  graces  of  the  Church,  and 
the  agency  that  she  has  in  her  hands  to  touch  the  will,  must 
be  no  other  than  the  very  power,  the  very  action,  the  very 
grace  of  Jesus  Christ.  No  other  hand  but  His,  no  other 
power  but  His — no  other  inHuence  but  His — ^the  Lord,  the 
Hedeemer,  the  Saviour, — coming  home  to  every  individual 
man, — can  pmify  that  man's  soul,  and  strengthen  him  to  gain 
the  "  victory  which  conquereth  the  world,"  the  flesh,  and  the 
devil — the  victory  of  Divine  faith  !  For,  of  what  avail  to 
me,  I  ask  you,  of  what  avail  to  me  is  it  that  a  priest  should 
lift  up  his  hand  and  say,  "  I  absolve  thee  from  thy  sin," 
unless  that  word,  that  grace,  that  power  to  do  it,  come  to  that 
priest  from  Jesus  Christ  ?  Of  what  avail  to  me  that  a  man  pour 
water  on  my  head  and  say,  "  I  baptize  thee  in  the  name  of 
the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  unless 
that  baptism,  that  water  had  sacramental  influence  instituted 
})y  the  Lord,  endowed  with  a  peculiar  power  for  this  purpose, 
— the  cleansing  of  the  soul, — and  be  tinged  mystically  with 
the  saving  blood  of  the  Hedeemer  1  Of  what  avail  to  me, 
if  I  come  to  this  altar,  open  my  mouth,  and  receive  what 
appears  to  be  a  morsel  of  bread,  unless  the  Redeemer  of  the 
world  had  said  :  '^  Without  Me  you  can  do  nothing.  And 
now  I  will  come  to  you.  Take  ye — and  eat  of  this  j — for 
this  is  My  body  and  My  blood."  Therefore,  it  is  the  action 
of  Jesns  Christ  that  must  remain  as  powerful,  as  pure,  as 
merciful  in  the  dispensation  of  the  Church's  grace,  as  her 
words  must  be  pure  from  error,  and  immixed  with  error  upon 
the  lips  of  the  Church's  preaching  ? 

Beliold  the  two  great  elements  of  man's  emancipation. 
Wherever  these  are  not,  there  is  slavery.  He  that  believes 
a  lie, — and,  above  all,  a  religious  untruth, — is  a  slave.  He 
that  commits  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin.  What  avails  it  that  you 
emancipate  a  maji — strike  the  chains  off'  his  hands — send  him 
forth,  in  name  a  free  man, — send  him  forth  with  every  con- 
stitutional right  and  civic  privilege   upon  him, — send  him 


THE  CHURCH  THE  TBTJE  EMAXCIPATOE.         205 

fortli,  glorying  in  his  freedom,  without  understanding  it,  and, 
perhaps,  unprepared  to  use  it  as  he  shouUi  ?  If  you  leave 
that  man's  intelligence  under  the  gloom  of  ignorance, — if  you 
leave  that  man's  will  under  the  dominion  of  sin  and  of  his 
own  passions,  have  you  made  him  a  free  man '?  You  call  him 
a  free  man.  But  God  in  Heaven  does  not  so  regard  him  j 
and,  unfortunately,  the  devil  in  hell  laughs  and  scoffs  at 
your  idea  of  freedom. 

And,  now,  my  friends,  this  being  the  mission,  declared  and 
avowed  by  our  Divine  Lord, — this,  consequently,  being  the 
mission  confided  into  the  hands  of  the  Church  to  be  fulfilled 
by  her,  let  us  turn  to  the  Church's  history  and  see  whether 
she  has  been  faithful  to  her  duty  in  thus  applying  the  ele- 
ments of  emancipation  to  man.  It  is  a  historical  question, 
and  one  that  I  must  deal  with,  principally,  historically.  Now, 
in  order  to  understand  it,  we  are,  first  of  all,  to  consider,  what 
was  the  state  of  the  world  when  the  Church  began  her  mis- 
sion 1  How  did  she  find  society  ?  Was  it  barbarous  or 
civilized!  I  answer  that  the  Churcli's  mission,  when  she 
tii-st  opened  her  lips  to  preach  the  Gospel,  was  to  a  most 
civilized  and  highly  intellectual  people.  Augustus  was  in  his 
grave  ;  but  the  "  Augustan  era,"  the  proudest,  the  highest,  and 
most  civilized,  yet  shed  its  infliience  over  the  world.  All  the 
wisdom  of  the  ancients,  all  the  learning  of  Pagan  philosophy, 
was  represented  in  that  august  assembly  before  which,  upon 
the  hill  of  Athens,  Paul  tlie  Apostle,  stood  up  to  preach  "  the 
ResuiTection  and  the  Life."  All  the  light  of  ancient  philo- 
sophy was  there.  All  the  glory  of  art  was  there  in  its 
bio-hest  perfection.  All  the  resources  then  attained  to  in 
science  were  tliere.  Men  were  glorying  in  that  day,  as  they 
are  in  this,  in  their  material  progress  and  in  their  ideas.  But, 
how  was  this  society  constituted  with  regard  to  slavery"? 
Why,  my  friends,  in  that  ancient  Pagan  world,  we  read  that, 
at  the  time  when  there  were  sixty  thousand  inhabitants  in 
the  city  of  Athens,  the  capital  of  Greece,  there  were  forty 
thousand  slaves,  and  only  twenty  thousand  freemen.  We 
read  how,  in  the  society  of  Sparta,  another  city  of  Greece,  the 
slaves  had  so  multiplied  that  the  masters  lived  in  constant 
fear  lest  their  servants — their  bondsmen — should  rise  up  in 
their  i)ower  and  destroy  them.  We  read  of  Rome,  that  the 
shives  were  in  such  numbers,  that,  when  it  was  proposed  in 
the  Senate  that  thev   should   wear  a  distinct  dress,  it  was 


206  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

immediately  opposed  on  the  ground  tbat,  if  they  wore  a  dis- 
tinct dress/tbey  would  come  to  recognize  their  own  numbers 
and  strength,  and  would  rise  and  sweep  the  freemen  from  the 
soil.  80  much  for  the  civilized  nations.  What  do  we  know 
of  the  Larbarous  nati(jns  ?  Why,  Herodotus  the  historian  tells 
us,  that,  on  one  occasion,  a  nation  of  Scythians  went  forth  and 
invaded  Medea  ;  and,  when  tiiey  returned,  after  a  successful 
war,  flushed  with  triumph  and  with  victory,  such  was  the 
number  of  the  slaves  that  they  had  enslaved, — from  the 
misfortunes  of  war  and  other  causes, — that  actually,  when 
they  returned  in  all  their  might,  they  found  that,  in  their 
absence,  their  slaves  had  revolted ;  and  they  were  chased  by 
their  own  servants — their  own  slaves — from  their  own  coun- 
try. How  were  these  slaves  treated!  They  were  treated 
thus:  We  read  that  when  a  certain  Prefect  of  Rome, 
Pedanius  Secundus,  was  murdered  by  one  of  his  slaves,  as 
a  matter  of  com\se,  following  the  law,  there  were  four  hundred 
of  that  man's  bondsmen  taken,  and  they  were  all  put  to  death 
without  mercy,  without  pity : — four  liundred  innocent  men 
for  the  fault  and  the  crime  of  one.  Had  the  slave  any  rights? 
None  whatever.  Had  the  slave  any  privilege  or  recognition 
of  any  kind"?  None  whatever.  His  life  and  his  blood  were 
accounted  as  of  no  value ;  and  what  was  still  worse,  the 
highest  philosophers  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  writing  on 
this  subject,  laid  down  as  a  principle,  that  these  men  were 
created  by  the  gods,  as  they  called  them,  for  the  purpose  of 
slavery  j  that  they  came  into  this  world  for  no  other  purpose  j 
that  they  had  no  souls  capable  of  appreciating  any  thing 
spiritual,  no  feelings  to  be  respected,  no  eternal,  or  even 
temporal,  interests  to  be  consulted ;  so  that  a  man  who  had 
the  misfortune  to  fall  into  slavery,  found  himself  not  only 
enslaved  but  degraded. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  world  when  the  Catholic  Church 
began  her  mission.  And  now,  what  was  the  first  principle 
that  the  Church  preached  and  laid  down  ?  The  first  emanci- 
pating principle  that  the  Catholic  Church  announced  was 
this:  She  proclaimed  that  slavery  was  no  degradation  ;  that 
a  man  might  be  enslaved,  and  yet  not  be  degraded.  This  was 
the  first  principle  by  which  the  Church  of  God  recognized  the 
nobility  of  the  souf  of  man,— no  matter  fi'om  what  race  he 
sprang  5  no  matter  what  misfortune  may  have  fallen  upon 
him  J — that  he  might  be  enslaved  3  nay,  more,  that  his  very 


THE  CHUnCH  THE  TRUE  EMAXCIPATOJi.         207 

slavery  might  bring  its  own  specific  duties  upon  him ;  but 
that  slavery,  in  itself,  was  no  degradation.  You  may  say  to 
me,  perhaps,  this  was  a  false  principle.  I  answer,  no ;  it  is 
not  a  false  principle.  I  am  a  slave  ;  yet  I  am  not  a  degraded 
man.  I  am  a  slave  ;  for,  many  years  ago,  I  swore  away,  at 
the  foot  of  the  altar,  my  liberty,  my  freedom,  and  my  will, 
and  gave  them  u})  to  God.  Am  I  therefore  degraded?  No. 
We  are  all  slaves  in  this  sense — that  the  Scnptures  tell  us  that 
"  we  have  been  bought  at  a  great  price"  by  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ ;  and,  therefore,  that  we  are  the  servants  and  bonds- 
men of  Him  who  redeemed  us.  But  who  will  say  that  such 
slavery  as  this  is  degradation  f  Xo,  my  friends.  You  may, 
])erhaps,  say  to  me,  that  we  all  admit  our  servitude  to  God. 
Well,  this  is  preciseU'  the  point ;  and  St.  Paul,  proclaiming 
the  first  elements  of  the  Church's  laws  and  doctiines  touch- 
ing slavery,  declared  that  even  a  man  w^lio  was  enslaved  by 
his  fellow-man  was  no  longer  a  slave, — that  is,  in  the  sense  of 
a  degraded  slave ;  because  Almighty  God,  through  His 
Church,  recognized  that  man's  soul, — recognized  his  feelings, 
— and  commanded  him  to  be  faithful,  even  as  a  slave, — not 
to  the  master  as  to  a  man,  but  to  the  master  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  as  reflecting  authority  and  power  over  him. 
These  are  the  express  w^ords  of  the  Apostle;  and  mai'k  how 
clearh'  they  bnng  out  this  grand  })rinciple.  He  says: 
"  Whosoever  are  servants  under  the  yoke,  let  them  account 
their  masters  worthy  of  all  honor,  lest  the  name  of  the  Lord 
and  His  doctrines  be  blasphemed."  He  goes  on  to  say  : 
'•  You,  slaves,  obey  those  that  are  your  masters  according  to 
the  flesh,  with  fear  and  trembling,  in  the  simplicity  of  your 
hearts,  as  to  Jesus  Christ  Himself;  not  serving  to  the  eye, 
as  it  were,  pleasing  men,  but  as  the  servants  of  Christ;  doing 
the  will  of  God  from  the  heart,  with  a  good  will ;  serving  as 
to  the  Lord,  not  to  man."  This  was  the  first  grand  element 
of  the  Church's  emancipation.  She  removed  from  the  slave 
the  degradation  of  his  slavery,  by  admitting  that,  slave  as  he 
was,  he  could,  in  obeying  his  master,  obey  God  ; — transfer  his 
allegiance,  as  it  were,  from  the  man  to  the  principle  of  God's 
authority  reflected  in  that  man ;  and  thus  serve,  not  as  to  the 
eye  of  man,  but  to  the  eye  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Secondly,  the  Aj)ostle  declares  that  slavery  ceased  to  be  a 
degradation  when  the  master  and  owner  was  as  much  a 
slave  as  his  bondsman.    And  this  he  declares  in  this  principle  : 


208  FATHER  BVBKKS  DISCOURSES. 

"And  yon,  masters,"  be  says,  "do  tlie  same  tiling  as 
your  slaves ;  forbearing  threatening,  knowing  that  the  Lord 
both  of  them  and  of  you  is  in  heaven,  and  that  there  is 
no  respect  of  persons  with  Him."  "  Masters,"  he  adds,  "  do 
to  vour  servants  that  which  is  just  and  equal,  knowing  that 
you  also  have  a  Master  who  is  in  heaven."  The  pagan  idea 
was  that  the  master  was  the  absolute  governor  and  ruler  of 
his  slave, — the  lord  of  life  and  death  ; — that  that  slave  was 
created  to  do  his  will ;  and  that,  for  his  treatment  of  his  servant, 
he  was  not  responsible  before  God.  The  Apostle,  in  the 
name  of  the  Church,  imposes  upon  the  master  and  slave  the 
common  servitude  to  the  one  God  ;  and  then  he  lays  down 
the  third  gTeat  element,  by  wdiich  he  relieves  slavery  of  its 
degradation,  when  he  says:  "There  is,  in  Christ,  neither 
bondsman  nor  freeman,  neither  Jew  nor  Gentile,  neither  Bar- 
barian nor  Scythian ;  but  Christ,  the  Lord,  in  all ;  and  ye 
are  all  one  in  Jesus  Christ." 

These,  my  friends,  were  the  first  words  of  consolation,  of 
hope,  of  manly  sympathy  with  his  fellows-men  in  slavery,  that 
ever  came  from  tlie  lips  of  a  teacher,  religious  or  otherwise, 
from  the  world's  creation.  And  these  came  from  the  lips  of 
the  Catholic  Church,  speaking  through  her  divinely-inspired 
Apostle.  Therefore  I  claim  for  her  that,  in  the  beginning, 
she  was  faithful  to  her  mission  ;  and  that  she  proclaimed  that 
she  came  to  console  the  afflicted  in  his  slavery,  and  to  lift 
from  him  the  weight  of  the  degradation  which  was  upon  him. 
Then  the  history  of  the  Church  began.  You  all  know,  my 
dear  friends,  how,  five  centuries  after  the  Church  was  estab- 
lished, the  barbarians — the  Goths,  the  Vandals,  the  Alans, 
and  all  these  terrible  nations  fi'om  the  north,  swept  down  over 
the  Iloman  empire,  and  destroyed  every  thing;  broke  up 
society  ;  reduced  it  to  its  first  chaotic  elements :  and  slavery 
was  the  universal  institution,  all  the  world  over.  Every 
nation  had  it.  The  captive  that  was  taken  in  war  lost  his 
liberty,  not  for  a  day,  but  for  ever.  The  man  who  was 
oppre*ssed  with  debt 'was  taken  for  his  debt  and  sold  into 
slavery.  The  Church  of  God  alone  was  able  to  meet  these 
barbarians,  to  confront  them,  and  to  evangelize  to  them  lier 
gospel  of  liberation  ;  and  to  soften,  and  gradually  to  dimiii-. 
ish,  until,  at  length,  she  all  but  destroyed,  the  existence  of 
this  unjust  slavery.  The  Church  of  God— the_  Catholic 
Church — was  the  only  power  that   these  barbaric  nations 


THE  CHURCH  THE  TRVE  EMAXCIPATOli.         209 

would  respect.  The  Pope  of  Rome  was  the  great  ii[)liol(]er 
of  tlie  principles  of  liberty;  because  liberty  means  nothing 
ra<tre  nor  less  than  the  assertion  of  light  for  every  man,  and 
tlie  omnipotence  of  the  law,  which  insures  liim  his  right,  and 
defines  that  right. 

And  how  did  the  Pope  act?  How  did  the  Church  carry 
out  her  mission?  My  friends,  we  find  that,  from  the 
fifth  century, — from  the  very  time  that  the  Church  V)egan 
to  be  known,  and  commenced  to  make  her  influence 
felt  among  the  nations, — among  the  very  first  ordinances 
tliat  she  made,  were  some  for  the  relief  of  the  slave.  She 
connnanded,  for  instance,  under  pain  of  censure,  that  no  mas- 
ter was  to  put  his  slave  to  death;  and  you  may  imagine 
under  what  depths  of  misery  society  was  plunged,  and  from 
what  a  state  of  things  the  Catholic  Church  has  saved  the 
world,  when  I  tell  you  that  one  of  the  ordinances  of  a  Coun- 
cil in  the  sixth  century  was,  that  if  any  lady  (now  just  imag- 
ine this  to  yourselves  !) — being  offended  by  any  of  her  slaves, 
or  vexed  by  them,  put  the  slave  to  death,  that  she  was  to 
undergo  several  long  years  of  public  penance  for  the  crime 
she  had  committed.  What  a  state  of  society  it  was,  when  a 
delicate  lady,  arraying  herself,  perhaps,  for  an  evening  meet- 
ing,— a  ball  or  a  party, — with  her  maiden  slaves  around  her, 
dressing  her,  adding  ornament  to  ornament, — that,  if  one  of 
them  made  a  slight  mistake,  the  delicate  lady  was  able  to 
turn  round, — as  we  read  in  the  Pagan  historians,  and  as 
Roman  ladies  did, — and  thrust  iier  ivory-hilted  dagger  into 
the  heart  of  her  poor  slave,  striking  her  dead  at  her  feet. 
The  only  power  tliat  was  recognized  on  the  earth,  to  make 
that  lady  responsible, — the  only  power  that  she  would  listen 
to, — the  only  representative  of  the  law  that  was  thus  to  fling 
its  protection  over  the  unhappy  slave,  was  the  power  of  the 
mighty  Church,  that  told  that  lady,  if  she  committed  herself 
to  sucli  actions  as  these,  that  outside  the  Church's  gates  she 
should  kneel,  in  sack(doth  and  ashes ;  that  she  should  kneel 
far  away  from  the  altar  and  the  sacrifice ;  that  she  should 
kneel  there  until,  after  long  years  of  weeping  and  penitence, 
as  a  public  penitent,  she  was  to  be  permitted  to  crawl  into 
the  Church,  and  take  the  place  of  the  penitent,  nearest  the 
door. 

And  so,  in  like  manner,  we  find  the  Church,  in  the  })ro- 
gress  of  ages,  making  laws,  that,  if  any  slave   offended   his 


210  FA  THEE  HUBKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

master,  and,  if  tlie  master  wished  to  pimish  him  then  and 
there,  by  some  terrible  form  of  aggravated  punishment,  and 
if  that  slave  fled  from  his  master,  there  was  only  one  place 
where  he  could  find  security,  and  that  was  the  Clmrch.  For 
the  Church  declared  ^  that  the  moment  a  shave  crossed  her 
door  and  entered  into  her  sanctuary,  that  moment  the  mas- 
ter's hand  was  stayed,  and  the  slave  was  out  of  his  powder, 
until  the  case  was  fairly  tried,  and  a  proportionate  and  just 
punislnnent  imposed,  as  would  be  imposed  on  any  other  man 
who  committed  the  "same  offence. 

Again :  we  find  the  same  Church,  in  the  course  of  ages, 
imposing  a  threat  of  excommunication  upon  any  man  who 
should  capture  a  manumitted  or  emancipated  slave,  and  re- 
duce him  to  slavery  again.  Further  on,  we  find  the  same 
Church  making  a  law  that,  when  a  Bishop,  or  a  Cardinal,  or 
a  gi-eat  ecclesiastic  died,  all  those  who  were  in  servitude  to 
him  should  be  immediately  freed.  These  were  the  freedmen 
of  the  Church,  as  they  were  called. 

But  you  may  ask,  why  did  she  not  abolish  slavery  at  once  ? 
And  this  is  the  accusation  that  is  made  against  the  Catholic 
Church,  even  by  such  a  man  as  Guizot,  the  great  French 
statesman  and  '^iDhilosopher,  who  says :  ^^  I  adujit  that  the 
Catholic  Chiu-ch,  in  her  action,  in  her  genius,  ahvays  tried  to 
preach  the  subject  of  emancipation  ;  but  wdiy  did  she  not  do 
it.  at  once  ?"  I  answ^er,  the  Church  of  God  is  the  only  power 
upon  earth  which,  at  all  times,  has  known  how  to  do  good, 
and  to  do  it  wisely  and  justly.  It  is  not  enough  to  do  a  good 
thins:  because  it  is  good :  it  must  be  well  done  ;  it  must  be 
wisely  done ;  there  must  be  no  injury  accompanying  the  do- 
ing of  it;  nor  no  injustice  staining  the  act.  The  Church  of 
God  could  not,  from  the  very  beginning,  have  emancipated 
without  doing  a  grave  injustice  to  the  society  which  she 
would  disturb,  to  Ihe  owners  of  these  slaves  against  whom 
she  might  be  accused  of  robbery  ;  but  the  greatest  injustice 
of  all  to  the  poor  slaves  themselves,  wdio  were  not  prepared 
for  the  gift  of  freedom.  And  therefore,  taking  her  own 
time,  proclaiming  her  principles,  acting  upon  them  strongly 
yet  sweetly,  and  drawing  to  iier  every  interest ;  conciliating 
men's  minds  ;  creating  public  opinion  among  society  ;  trying 
to  save  every  man  from  injustice;  and  in  the  meantime,  pre- 
paring mankind,  by  faith  and  by  sanctity,  for  the  gift  of  free- 
dom,— she  labored  slowly,  patiently,  but  most  efficaciously 


TEE  CUrRCE  TEE  TRUE  EMAXCITATOE.  211 

in  the  great  work  of  emancipation.  For,  my  friends,  there 
are  two  injnstices,  and  grave  injustices,  which  may  accom- 
pany this  great  act  of  emancii)ation.  There  is  the  in- 
justice whic^i  may  affect  the  whole  of  society,  may  break  up 
l)uhlic  order,  may  ruin  interests ;  and  that  is  the  injustice 
which  a  smhleu  and  a  rash  emancipation  inflicts  upon  the 
society  upon  uhich  it  falls.  For  instance,  as  in  Europe  in 
the  early  middle  ages,  slaves  who,  according  to  St!  Augustine, 
were  enslaved,  not  from  any  inherent  right  of  man  over  his 
fellow-man,  but  in  punishment  for  their  own  sins, — these 
slaves  formed  a  great  portion  of  the  public  property.  Nearly 
one-half  of  mankind  were  enslaved  to  the  other  half.  The 
consequence  was  that  the  disposition  of  property  was  affected 
by  them  ;  that  the  tillage  and  cultivation  of  the  land  depended 
upon  them;  that  in  fact  the  status  and  condition  of  the  half 
who  owned  the  slaves  would  be  affected  ;  so  that,  by  a  sudden 
and  rash  emancipation,  the  freeman  of  to-day  would  become 
a  slave,  in  the  pt)verty  and  in  the  unh)oked-for  privation  and 
misery  that  would  come  upon  him  by  the  loss  of  all  that  he 
possessed  in  this  world.  AYas  that  injustice  to  be  done? 
No  5  because  it  would  defeat  its  own  end.  The  end  of  all 
society  is  peace  and  hap})iness.  The  end  of  all  society  is 
concord  and  mutual  straining  to  one  end  ;  each  man  helping 
lis  fellow-man :  and  the  Church  was  too  wise  to  throw  such 
an  element  of  universal  discord  among  all  tbe  other  dissen- 
i>ions  that  were  tearing  the  heart  of  the  world  in  those  days — 
to  throw  in  the  element  of  dissension,  and  to  set  one  half 
the  world  against  the  other. 

But  far  greater  is  the  injustice  which  is  dime  to  the  poor 
slave  himself,  by  a  sudden,  an  unexpected,  and  a  sweeping 
emancipation.  For,  my  friends,  next  to  Divine  grace  and 
faith,  the  highest  gift  of  God  to  man  is  freedom.  Freedom  ! 
sacred  liberty  ! — within  these  consecrated  walls, — even  as  a 
priest,  I  say  that  sacred  freedom  is  a  high  gift  of  God :  but 
the  history  of  our  race  tells  us  that  it  is  a  gift  that  has  at  all 
times  been  most  fatally  abused;  and  the  poet  says,  with 
bitter  truth,  that  at  an  early  age  he  was  left 

"  Lord  of  himself— tliat  heritage  of  woe." 

Liberty, — lordship  over  one's  self, — unfettered  freedom  is,  in 
most  cases,  a  '^  heritage  of  woe,"  and  es[)ecially  when  a  man 
dues  not  understand  what  it  means,  and  is  not  prepared  for 


2V>  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOUBSES. 

its  leo-itimate  exercise.  Wliat  is  liberty  1  that  sacred  word 
so  oiten  used,  so  frequently  abused,  so  little  understood  1 
All !  my  friends,  what  is  liberty  1  In  our  days  men  Ml  into 
two  most  fatal  errors  :  they  have  a  false  idea  of  religious 
liberty,  and  they  have  a  false  idea  of  civil  liberty.  The 
false  'idea  of  religious  liberty  is,  that  it  consists  in  unfettered 
freedom  for  every  man  to  believe  whatever  he  likes.  A 
nation  is  said  to  have  religious  liberty  when  every  man 
bebeves  whatever  notion  of  religion  conies  into  his  head  ; 
and  consequently  there  are  as  many  sects  as  there  are  religions. 
Men  say,  "  Grand  !  glorious  !  this  is  religious  liberty  ! " 
But  yesterday  there  was  only  one  faith  in  Italy,  for  instance ; 
to-day  we  hear  men  boasting  :  "  Thirty  thousand  hearers, 
ten  thousand  preachers,"  of  some  new  creed ;  and  in  twenty 
years'  time,  if  this  goes  on,  we  shall  have  Italy  broken^  up 
into  Quakers,  and  Shakers,  and  Baptists,  and  Anabaptists, 
and  all  sorts  of  religious  sects.  Is  this  religious  liberty  ? 
Men  sav  it  is.  Well,  if  this  be  religi(ms  liberty,  all  I  can 
say  is,"  that  the  definition  that  Christ  our  Lord  gave  of 
religious  liberty  is  wrong ;  for  He  said  :  ^'  You  shall  know 
the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall  make  you  free."  Truth  is  one, 
and  only  one :  it  cannot  contradict  itself.  You  shall  know 
the  truth,  and  have  it ;  and  in  that  you  shall  find  your  free- 
dom. It  will  follow  from  this  that  the  more  any  nation  or 
people  approach  to  unity  of  thought,  they  approach  to  liberty, 
provided  that  one  thought  represent  the  truth  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Civil  liberty  is  also  misunderstood.  Many  imagine,  nowa- 
days, that  the  essence  of  civil  liberty  is  the  power  to  rise 
up"  at  any  time  and  create  a  revolution, — to  rise  up  against 
the  rulers  and  governors — against  the  fixed  form  of  constitu- 
tional law,— and  upset  every  thing.  That  is  the  idea,_  for 
instance — the  popular  idea,  unfortunately — now  in  the  minds 
of  many  in  Europe.  In  France,  for  example,  nearly  every 
man  that  knows  how  to  read  and  write  has  a  copy  of  a  con- 
stitution in  his  pocket,  which  he  has  drawn  out  himself  to 
be  the  future  constitution  of  France ;  and  he  is  prepared  to 
go  out  and  stand  on  the  barricades,  and  fight  for  his  constitu- 
tion, and  kill  his  neighbor  for  it.  The  idea  of  liberty,  too, 
which  has  taken  possession  of  the  minds  of  many,  seems  to 
lie  in  this, — that  every  man  can  do  as  he  likes,  and  what  he 
likes.     Ah  !  if  this  were   brought  home  to   us ;  if  it   were 


THE  CHURCH  THE  TRUE  EMANCIPATOR.         213 

bronglit  Lome  to  us  that  every  man  could  do  as  lie  liked  ; 
that  we  could  be  assaulted  and  assailed  at  every  hand's  turn  ; 
that  every  man  should  go  out  with  his  life  in  his  hand  j  that 
there  was  no  protection  for  a  man  against  his  neighbor  who 
was  stronger  ;  and  any  man  who,  boasting  of  his  power, 
says  :  "  I  want  your  money ;  I  want  your  means  ;  I  am  able 
to  take  it,  and  I  am  at  liberty  to  take  it ;  because  liberty 
consists  in  every  man  doing  as  he  likes;" — how  would  you 
like  this  liberty,  my  friends  I  No;  the  essence  of  liberty 
lies  here  :  the  essence  of  liberty  lies  in  recognizing  and  defin- 
ing every  man's  light,  no  matter  what  he  is,  from  the  high- 
est to  the  lowest  in  the  State.  Let  every  man  know  his  own 
rights,  be  they  great  or  small,  be  they  limited  or  otherwise  ; 
let  every  man  liave  the  rights  that  ave  just  and  reasonable  ; 
let  him  know  his  rights ;  do  not  keep  him  in  ignorance  of 
them  ;  define  them  for  him  by  law,  no  matter  what  position 
lie  holds  in  society  :  and  when  every  man's  rights  are  defined 
and  recognized,  and  incorporated  in  law,  let  that  law  be  put 
up  on  high  :  put  it,  if  you  will,  upon  the  very  altar ;  and  let 
every  man  in  the  State, — President,  Eang,  Emperor,  General, 
soldier,  civilian, — ^let  every  man,  high  or  low,  bow  dow^n 
before  the  omnipotence  and  the  supremacy  of  that  law.  Let 
that  law  be  there  to  define  every  man's  rights,  and  to  secure 
them  to  him,  and  let  every  man  know  that,  as  long  as  he 
keeps  himself  within  tbe  exercise  of  his  own  rights,  as  defined 
by  law,  no  power  can  toucli  him,  no  man  can  infringe  upon 
him.  Leave  him  free  in  tlie  exercise  of  these  rights  :  that  is 
liberty ;  the  supremacy  of  the  law,  the  omnipotence  of  the 
law, — the  law  which  is  the  expression  of  matured  reason  and 
of  authority,  respecting  and  defining  every  man's  rights. 
Far  more  free  is  the  man  who  is  only  able  to  do  this  thing 
or  that,  but  knows  that  he  can  do  them, — that  knows  that 
these  are  his  rights,  and  that  no  man  can  prevent  him  from 
exercising  them, — than  the  man  who  has  an  undefined  free- 
dom, which  is  not  preserved  or  secured  to  him  by  any  form 
of  defined  law. 

This  is  civil  liberty.  And  so  it  is  as  great  a  mistake  to 
say,  "  I  can  do  what  I  like  ;  therefore  1  am  free ;  I  have 
civil  liberty,"  as  it  is  to  say,  "I  can  believe  what  I  like; 
theref(»re  t  have  religious  liberty."  No,  it  is  not  true. 
Dogma, — the  truth  of  God, — does  not  leave  us  at  liberty. 
It  appeals  to  us,  and  we  are  bound  to  open  our  minds  to  let 


214  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

into  our  intelligence  the  truth  of  God.  Any  man  who  refuses 
it  commits  a  sin.  We  are  not  at  liberty  to  refuse  it.  The 
law  appeals  to  us  ;  we  are  not  at  liberty  to  disobey  it.  The 
quintessence  of  cIa^I  freedom  lies  in  obeying  the  law  ;  the 
quintessence  of  religious  freedom  lies  in  acknowledging  tbe 
trutli. 

And  now,  my  friends,  this  being  the  case,  I  ask  you  what 
greater  injustice  can  you  do  to  a  man  than  to  give  him  that 
liberty,  that  unlimited  freedom,  Avithout  first  telling  him  his 
rights,  defining  his  rights,  establishing  those  rights  by  law, 
and  without  teaching  that  man  that  he  must  respect  the  law 
that  protects  him ;  that  he  must  move  w'ithin  the  sphere  or 
circle  of  his  rights,  and  content  himself  in  this?  What  greater 
injustice  can  you  do  to  society  or  to  a  man  himself,  than  to 
give  him  freedom  without  defining  what  his  rights  are  ?  lu 
other  words,  is  not  tlje  gift  of  liberty  itself  a  misnomer!  Is 
it  not  simply  an  absurdity  to  say  to  a  man,  "  You  are  free," 
when  that  man  does  not  know  what  is  meant  by  the  word  free- 
dom I  Look  at  the  history  of  emancipation,  and  will  you  not 
find  this  to  be  the  case"?  The  States  have  emancipated  just 
as  the  Church  has  emancipated ;  but  with  this  difference — 
that  the  Church  prepared  the  slave  before  she  gave  him  free-, 
dom  ;  taught  him  his  rights,  taught  him  his  responsibilities, 
taught  him  his  duties ;  and  then,  taking  the  chains  off  his 
haiids,  said  :  ^'  You  are  a  fi'ee  man.  Respect  your  rights  ; 
move  in  the  sphere  of  your  duties,  and  bow  dowai  before  the 
law  that  has  made  you  free."  The  State  has  not  said  tbis. 
A  few  years  ago  England  emancipated  the  black  population 
of  Jamaica; — a  sweeping  emancipation.  The  negroes  were 
not  prepared  for  it ;  they  did  not  understand  it.  What  was 
the  first  use  they  made  of  their  liberty  ?  The  first  use  that 
they  made  of  their  liberty  was  to  fling  aside  the  hoe,  the 
sickle,  tlie  spade,  every  implement  of  labor,  and  sit  down 
idly,  to  famish  and  starve  in  the  land.  Now,  among  the 
duties  of  man,  defined  by  every  law,  the  first  duty  is  labor, 
— work.  The  only  respectable  man  in  this  world  is  the  man 
who  works.  The  idler  is  not  a  respectable  man.  If  he  were 
seated  upon  great  Caesars  thone,  and  there  he  would  be  an 
idler,  I  would  have  no  respect,  but  only  contempt  for  him. 
This  was  the  first  v.se  that  the  negro  population  of  Jamaica 
made  of  their  freedom.  What  was  the  consequence  ?  That 
their  state  to-day,  after  many  years  of  emancipation,  is  one 


THE  CHURCH  THE  TRUE  EMANCIPATOR.         215 

of  absolute  misery ;  wliile,  during  the  time  tliey  were  slaves, 
tbev  were  livin<]^  in  comparative  comfort ;  because,  small  as 
the  circle  of  their  rights  was,  strictly  defined  as  it  was,  still 
it  had  its  duties  :  they  knew  their  duties,  tliey  knew  the  law ; 
they  were  protected  in  the  exercise  of  their  duties ;  and  the 
consequence  was  they  were  a  thriving  pe()})le. 

Look  to  the  Southern  States  of  this  Union.  You  have 
emancipated  your  negro  population,  with  one  sweeping  act 
of  emancipation.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  by  so  doing  (I  do 
not  wish  to  speak  politics ;  I  do  not  wish  to  enter  npiju  this 
question  in  any  way  that  would  be,  perhaps,  insolent  in  a 
stranger; — but  this  I  do  say) — tliat  in  that  sweeping 
emancipation,  though  you  did  what  the  world  may  call 
a  grand  and  a  glorious  thing,  you  know  well  how  many 
you  deprived  of  the  very  means  of  subsistence  by  it,  and 
what  misery  and  poverty  you  brought  upon  many  families 
by  it,  and  how  completely,  for  a  time,  you  shattered  the 
framework  of  society  by  it.  Have  you  benefited  the  slave 
population  by  it  ? — by  this  gift  of  freedom, — a  glorious  gift, 
a  grand  gift,  provided  that  the  man  who  receives  it  knows 
what  it  is;  provided  that  the  man  who  receives  it  is  pre- 
pared to  receive  it  and  use  it  as  he  ought.  But,  either  to 
the  white  man  or  the  colored  man,  the  gift  of  freedom  is  a 
fatal  gift,  unless  he  knows  how  to  use  it.  Did  you  prepare 
these  men  for  that  freedom  before  you  gave  it  to  them  '?  Did 
you  tell  them  that  they  should  be  as  laborious  as  they  were  in 
slavery?  that  labor  was  the  first  duty  of  every  man?  Did 
you  tell  them  that  they  were  to  respect  the  rights  of  their 
fellow-men,  to  whom,  slaves  yesterday,  they  are  made  equals 
to-day  ?  Did  you  tell  them  that  they  were  not  to  indulge  in 
vain,  idle  dreams  of  becoming  a  privileged  class  in  the  land, 
to  govern  and  rule  their  fellow-men  to  whom  the  law  only 
made  them  constitutionally  and  politically  equal?  Did  you 
tell  them  that  they  were  not  to  attempt  instantly,  forcibly,  to 
overstep  certain  bamers  that. the  God  of  nature  set  between 
them  ;  l)ut  that  they  were  to  respect  the  race  that  manumitted 
and  emancipated  them  ?  I  fear  you  did  not.  I  have  had 
evidence  of  it.  "What  use  have  they  made  of  this  gift  of 
freedom  ?  Ah  !  children  as  they  were,  though  grown  into 
the  fulness  of  material  manhood, — children  as  they  were, 
withojit  education,  without  kiiowledge, — what  use  could  they 
make  of  their  freedom  l      What  use  do  you  and  I  make  of 


216  FATHER  BUBKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

our  freedom  ?  we  who  are  born  free,  we  wliose  education  and 
everv  thing  suiTounding  ns  from  our  infancy,  all  tend  to  make 
'us  respect  and  use  well  that  freedom.  Is  there  that  purity, 
that  self-respect,  that  manly  restraint  over  a  man's  passions, 
— is  there  that  assertion  of  the  dominion  of  the  soul  over 
the  inferior  nature  stamped  upon  the  Christian  society 
and  the  white  society  of  the  world  to-day,  that  would  lead 
them  to  imagine  that  it  is  so  easy  for  a  poor  child  of  slavery 
to  enter  into  the  fulness  of  his  freedom  ?     I  fear  not. 

Well,  my  friends,  still  they  are  there  before  us.  The 
dreams  of  the  political  economist  will  not  teach  them  to  use 
their  freedom.  The  vain,  ambitious,  and  I  will  add,  impious 
pui-poses  and  theories  propounded  by  those  who  would  in- 
sinuate that  the  colored  man  was  emancipated  for  the  purpose 
of  a  commingling  of  races,  will  not  teach  them  to  use  their 
freedom.  The  ambitious  hopes  of  ascendency  held  out  before 
them,  will  not  teach  them  to  use  their  freedom.  The  political 
parties  that  would  make  use  of  them  for  their  own  ends  will 
never  teach  them  to  use  their  freedom.  You  have  emanci- 
pated them  5  and  I  deny  that  they  are  free.  I  say  that  they 
are  slaves.  You  have  emancipated  them.  Tell  me,  what 
religious  freedom  have  yon  given  them  ?  You  have  put  an 
open  Bible  into  the  hand  of  a  man  who  only  learned  to  read 
yesterday  ;  and  you  have  told  him,  with  bitter  sarcasm,  to  go 
and  find  the  trutb  of  God  in  a  book  that  has  puzzled  the 
greatest  and  wisest  of  the  earth's  philosophers.  You  have 
sent  him  in  search  of  religion  in  a  book  that  has  been  quoted 
by  every  false  teacher,  from  the  day  that  it  was  written,  by 
prostituting  that  sacred,  inspired  word,  and  twisting  it  to  lend 
a  color  to  his  arguments.  You  have  sent  teachers  to  them, 
teachers  who  began  thek  lesson,  began  their  teaching,  by 
dcclaiing  that,  after  they  had  labored  all .  day,  they  might 
have  been  mistaken  all  through  ;  and  that  they  had  no  fixed, 
.  immutable  truths  to  give  to  the  poor  emancipated  mind.  You 
know  it.  What  religious  freedom  have  you  given  them  ? 
Have  you  touched  their  hearts  with  grace  1  You  have  given 
them,  indeed,  forms  of  religion,  which  you  boast  are  suited  to 
them,  because  you  allow  these  overgrown,  simple  children  to 
bellow  and  to  cry  out  what  seems  to  be  the  word  of  praise 
and  of  faith.  Ah,  my  friends,  it  is  not  this  corporeal  exercise 
that  will  purify  their*  hearts,  strengthen  their  souls,  subdue 
their  passions,  and  make  them,  first  of  all,  respect  themselves 


THE  CHUnCR  THE  TRUE  EMANCIPATOR.         217 

ai  d  then  respect  their  fenow-citizens  of  tlie  hand.  Yon  have 
emancipated  them  ;  bnt  you  liave  not  freed  them.  They  shall 
he  free  only  in  the  day  when  these  poor  darkened  intelli- 
gences shall  have  been  led  into  the  full  light  of  GckVs  know- 
ledge, and  when  the  strong  animal  passions  of  a  race  that, 
from  whatever  cause  it  be,  seems  to  have  more  of  the  animal 
than  many  other  races  of  mankind  ;  when  their  strong  pas- 
sions are  subdued,  their  hearts  purified,  their  souls  cleansed, 
graces  received  to  be  prized  and  to  be  retained; — then, 
aad  only  then,  will  you  have  emancipated  the  negro.  You 
have  not  done  it  as  yet.  But  it  is  the  Church's  work  to  do 
it.  It  is  her  mission  and  her  duty.  She  knows  that  He  who 
came  and  died  upon  the  cross,  died  not  only  for  you  but  for 
these  children  of  the  mid-day  sun.  She  knows"^  that  every 
soul  of  these  colored  people  "is  as  dear  to  the  heart  of  God 
as  the  proudest  and  the  best,  the  most  learned  and  the  most 
refined  among  you.  She  knows  that  if  she  can  onlv  make 
a  truly  ftiithful  Catholic  Christian  out  of  the  humblest  of 
these  children  of  the  desert,  that  she  will  have  made  some- 
thing more  noble — grander  and  greater — than  the  best 
among  you,  if  you  be  sinners ;  and  "she,  therefore,  sends  to 
them  her  clergy,  her  consecrated  children — priests  and  nuns. 
She  says  to  the  noblest  and  the  best  in  the  la.nd  :  "  Arise  ;  go 
forth  from  house  and  home,  from  father  and  friends;  go, 
seek  a  strange  land  and  strange  people;  go  in  among 
them ;  go,  seek  the  toil  and  the  burning  heat  and  the  burden 
of  the  day  ;  go  seek  the  man  whom  many  men  despise ;  kneel 
down  at  his  feet,  and  offer  him  Jesus  Christ. "  We  have 
been  told  by  a  higli  authority  that  this  is  an  act  of  justice 
Mhich  England  offers, — an  act  of  reparation  which  Catholic 
England  offers  to  America ;  for,  great  as  has  been  the  crisis 
of  the  late  war,  the  slavery  which  was  in  America, — the 
highest  ecclesiastical  authority  in  England  tells  us,  sanctioned 
by  the  voice  of  history, — has  not  been  your  creation,  my 
American  friends  :  it  was  England's  creation.  It  was  forced 
upon  you ;  and,  from  having  begun,  it  became  a  necessity. 
And,  therefore,  England  to-day  sends  her  children  ;  and  they 
come  Avith  humility,  but  with  earnestness  and  zeal,  and  theV 
say  to  you — to  you,  Catholics, — many — perhaps,  a  vast  major- 
ity among  you — of  Irish  parentage  or  Irish  descent, — they 
say  to  you, — children  of  a  faithful  nation,  children  of  a 
race  that  has  always  been  intellectual  enough  to  recognize 

10 


218  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

the  one  truth,  keen  enough  to  know  its  value,  energetic 
enough  to  grasp  it  with  a  firm  hand, — lovers  as  you  have  been 
of  freedom,  worshippers  at  the  shrine  of  your  religious  and 
your  national  liberty, — they  ask  you,  children  of  a  race  of 
doctors,  of  martyrs,  of  apostles,  to  lend  a  helping  hand  to 
the  Catholic  Chm'ch  to-day,  and  to  aid  her  to  emancipate 
truly  those  who  have  obtained  only  freedom  in  name,  and  to 
complete  that  work  which  can  only  be  done  by  a  touch  of 
the  hand  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Your  presence  here  this  evening  expresses  your  sympathy 
with  the  high  and  noble  purpose  that  has  brought  these  chil- 
dren, the  consecrated  ones  of  the  Church  of  God,  to  this  coun- 
try ;  and  they  appeal  to  you,  through  me : — and  they  have  a 
right  to  appeal  to  you,  through  me,  and  I  have  a  right  to 
speak  to  you  in  this  cause  of  freedom ;  for  my  brother,  wear- 
ing this  same  habit,  the  venerable  and  holy  Bartholomew  Las 
Casas,  the  first  Dominican  that  ever  landed  in  America,  in 
the  very  train  of  Christopher  Columbus  himself, — was  the  first 
man  that  raised  his  voice  to  proclaim  to  the  poor  Indian  the 
birthright  of  that  higher  freedom  that  consists  in  the  know- 
ledge and  the  grace  of  Jesus  Christ.  We  only  ask  you  to 
help  us  to  difi"use  that  knowledge  and  that  grace — that  know- 
ledge which  is  the  freedom  of  the  intellect — that  grace  which 
is  the  freedom  of  the  will,  and  without  which  double  freedom 
there  is  no  emancipation  ;  for  the  fetters  may  fall  from  the 
hand,  but  the  chain  is  still  riveted  upon  the  soul.  Freedom 
is  a  sacred  thing ;  but,  like  every  sacred  thing,  it  must  be 
seated  in  the  soul  of  man.  Bodily  freedom  is  as  nothing 
unless  the  soul  be  emancipated  by  the  holy  Chm'ch  of  God. 
Your  presence  here  this  evening  attests  your  sympathy  witli 
this  great  work  j  and,  0  my  friends  !  as  you  have  contributed 
materially,  I  ask  you  to  contribute  also  intellectually  and 
spiritually  5 — intellectually,  by  the  sympathy  of  your  intel- 
ligence with  the  labor  of  those  holy  priests ;  and  spiritually,  by 
pra^dng  to  God,  who  came  to  emancipate  the  world,  that  He 
might  make  perfect  the  weak  and  inefiicient  action  of  man- 
kind and  of  the  State,  by  pouring  forth  His  spirit  of  light  and 
grace  among  these  poor  children  and  strangers  who  are  in 
the  land. 


THE  MONTH  OF  MARY. 

I A  Sermon  delivered  hij  Very  Rev.  T.  N.  Burke,  O.P.,  in  the  church  of 
SL  Vincent  Ferrer,  New  York,  May  1,  1872.] 

We  are  commencing  this  evening  the  devotions  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  to  which  the  Chm-ch  invites  all  her  children, 
during  the  month  of  May.  The  faithful,  at  all  seasons,  in- 
voke the  mercy  of  God  through  the  intercession  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Mother.  But  more  especially  during  this  sweet  month, 
the  opening  of  the  beautiful  year,  does  our  Holy  Mother  in- 
vite our  devout  thoughts  and  prayers  to  the  Mother  of  God, 
and  put  before  us  the  Blessed  Virgin's  claims  and  titles  to 
our  veneration  and  love.  Guided  by  this  Catholic  instinct 
and  spirit,  we  are  assembled  here  this  evening,  my  dear 
brethren,  and  it  is  my  pleasing  duty  to  endeavor  to  unfold 
before  your  eyes  the  high  designs  of  God  which  were  matured 
and  can-ied  out  in  Mary.  And,  first  of  all,  I  have  to  remark 
to  you,  as  I  have  done  before — that  in  every  work  of  God 
we  find  reflected  the  harmony  and  the  order  which  is  the 
infinite  beauty  of  God  Himself.  The  nearer  any  work  of 
His  approaches  to  Him  in  excellence,  in  usefulness,  in  neces- 
sity, the  more  does  that  work  reflect  the  beauty  and  harmony 
of  God  who  created  it.  Now,  dearly  beloved,  the  highest 
work  that  ever  God  made — that  it  ever  entered  into  His 
mind  to  conceive — or  that  He  ever  executed  by  His  omnipo- 
tence— was  the  sacred  humanity,  or  the  human  nature  of  Jesus 
Christ;  and,  next  to  Him,  in  grandeur,  in  sanctity,  necessity, 
is  the  institution  of,  or  the  creation  of,  the  Catholic  Church  of 
God.  When,  therefore,  we  come,  as  pious  children  of  the 
Church,  to  examine  her  doctrines,  to  meditate  upon  her  pre- 
cepts, to  analyze  her  devotions,  we  naturally  find  ourselves 
at  once  in  the  kingdom  of  perfect  harmony  and  order. 
Every  thing  in  the  Church's  teaching  harmonizes  with 
the  works  of  the  hinnan  intelligence ;  every  thing  in  the 
Church's  moral  law  harmonizes  with  the  wants  of  man's 
soul.       Every  thing  in    the  Church's  liturgy,  or  devotions 


220  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

harmonizes  with  man's  imagination  and  sense,  in  so  far  as 
that  imagination  and  sense  help  him  to  a  union  with 
God.  And  so,  every  thing  in  the  Church's  devotion 
harmonizes  with  the  nature  around  us,  and  within  us, 
and  with  that  reflection  of  nature  in  its  highest  and  most 
beautiful  form,  which  is  in  the  spirit  and  in  the  genius  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  I  remember  once  speaking  with  a 
very  distinguished  poet — one  of  world-wide  reputation  and 
honorable  name, — a  name  which  is  a  household  word  wher- 
ever the  English  language  is  spoken  ; — and  he  said  to  me  : 
'^  Father,  I  am  not  a  Catholic ;  3^et  I  have  no  keener  pleas- 
ure or  greater  enjoyment  than  to  witness  Catholic  ceremo- 
nial, to  study  Catholic  devotion,  to  investigate  Catholic 
doctrines;  nor  do  I  find,"  said  he,  ^^in  all  that  nature  or  the 
resources  of  intellect  open  before  me,  greater  food  for  poetic 
and  enthusiastic  thought  than  that  which  is  suggested  to  me 
by  the  Catholic  Church."  And,  so,  it  is  not  without  some 
beautiful,  harmonious  reason  that  the  Church  is  able  to  ac- 
count for  every  iota  and  every  tittle  of  her  liturgy  and  of 
her  devotions. 

And,  now,  we  find  the  Church,  upon  this  the  first  of  May, 
calling  all  her  pious  and  spiritual-minded  children,  and  tell- 
ing tliem  that  this  month  is  devoted,  in  an  especial  manner, 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin  3Iary.  What  month  is  this,  my  dearly 
l)eloved  ?  It  is  the  month  in  the  year  when  the  Spring  puts 
forth  all  its  life,  and  all  the  evidences  of  those  hidden 
powers  that  lie  latent  in  this  world  of  ours.  You  have  all 
seen  the  face  of  nature  at  Christmas  time,  diu-ing  Lent,  even 
at  Easter-time,  this  year :  and,  looking  around  you,  it  seemed 
as  if  the  earth  was  never  to  produce  a  green  blade  of  grass 
again.  You  looked  upon  the  trees :  no  leaf  gave  evidence 
there  of  life ;  all  was  lifeless,  all  was  ban-en,  all  was  dried 
up.  And  to  a  man  who  opened  his  eyes  but  yesterday,  with- 
out the  experience  of  past  years,  and  of  past  Summers,  it 
would  seem  as  if  it  were  impossible  that  this  cold,  and  baiTcn, 
and  winter-stricken  earth  could  ever  burst  again  into  the  life, 
Ihe  verdure,  the  beauty,  and  the  promise  of  Spring.  But  the 
clouds  rained  down  the  rain  of  heaven  :  the  sun  shone  forth 
with  the  warmth  of  Spring ;  and,  suddenly,  all  nature  is  in- 
stinct with  life.  Now  the  corn-fields  sprout,  and  tell  us  that 
in  a  few  months  the}"  will  teem  with  the  abundance  of  the 
harvest.     Now,    the   meadow,    dried  up,    and   bmned,    and 


THE  MONTH  OF  MARY.  221 

witliered,  and  yellow,  and  leafless,  clotlies  itself  witli  a  green 
mantle,  robing  hill  and  dale  with  the  beauty  of  nature,  and 
refreshing  the  eye  of  man,  and  every  beast  of  the  field 
that  feeds  thereon.  Now  the  trees  that  seemed  to  be  utterly 
dried  and  sapless, — leafless  and  motionless,  save  so  far  as  they 
swayed  sadly  to  and  fro  to  every  wintry  blast  that  passed 
over  them, — are  clothed  with  the  fair  young  buds  of  Spring, 
most  delicate  and  delightful  to  the  eye  and  to  the  heart  of 
man,  promising  in  the  little  leaf  of  to-day  the  ample  spread 
and  the  deep  shade  of  the  thick  Summer  foliage  that  is  to 
come  upon  them.  Now  the  birds  of  the  air,  silent  during 
the  Winter  months,  begin  theii'  song.  The  lark  rises  on  his 
wing  to  the  upper  air ;  and,  as  he  rises,  he  pours  out  his  song 
in  ether,  until  he  fills  the  whole  atmosphere  with  the  thrill  of 
his  delicious  harmony.  Now  every  bud  expands,  and  every 
leaf  (jpens,  and  every  spray  of  plant  and  tree  sends  forth  its 
Spring-song,  hailing  with  joy  the  Summer  j  and  all  nature  is 
instinct  wdth  life.  How  beautiful  is  the  harmony  of  our  de- 
votion and  our  worship  :  how  delicate,  how  natural,  how 
beautiful  the  idea  of  our  Holy  Mother  the  Church,  in  select- 
ing this  month — this  month  of  promise — this  month  of  Spring 
— this  month  of  gladness — of  serene  sky  and  softened  tem- 
perature— this  month  opening  the  Summer,  the  glad  time  of 
the  year,  and  dedicating  it  to  her  who  represents,  indeed,  in 
the  order  of  grace,  the  Spring-time  of  man's  redemption  ; 
opening  the  Summer  of  the  sunshine  of  God,  the  first  sign  of 
the  purest  life  that  this  earth  was  able  to  send  forth  under  the 
eyes  of  God  and  man !  Oh,  how  long  and  how  sad  was  the 
Winter  ! — the  w^inter  of  God's  wrath — the  winter  of  four 
thousand  years,  during  which  the  sunshine  of  God's  favor  was 
shut  out  from  this  world  by  the  thick  clouds  of  man's  sin 
and  of  God's  anger  !  How  sad  was  that  Winter  that  seemed 
never  to  be  able  to  break  into  the  genial  Spring  of  God's 
grace,  and  of  His  holy  favor  and  virtue  again  !  No  sunbeam 
of  divine  truth  illumined  its  darkness.  No  smile  of  divine 
favor  gladdened  the  face  of  the  spiritual  world  for  these  four 
thousand  years.  The  earth  seemed  dead  and  accursed,  in- 
capable of  bringing  forth  a  single  flower  of  promise,  or  send- 
ing forth  a  single  leaf  of  such  beauty  that  it  might  be  fit  to 
be  culled  by  the  loving  hand  of  God.  But,  when  the  Sunt- 
mer-time  was  about  to  come — when  the  thick  clouds  began 
to  part — the  clouds  of  anger,  the  clouds  of  sin — the  cloud  of 


222  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

the  CTirso  was  broken  and  rent  asunder,  and  gave  place  to  tlie 
purer  cloud  of  mercy  and  of  grace,  that  bowed  down  from 
heaven,  overladen  with  the  rain  and  dew  of  God's  redemption. 
Then  the  earth  moved  itself  to  life  in  the  sunshine,  and  the 
first  flower  of  hope,  the  first  fair  thing  that  this  earth  produced 
for  four  thousand  years,  in  the  breaking  of  winter,  before  the 
Summer,  in  the  promise  of  spring,  was  the  Immaculate  Lily, 
the  fairest  flower  that  bloomed  upon  the  root  of  Jesse,  and  in 
its  bloom  sent  forth  pure  leaves,  so  fragrant,  that  their  sweet 
odor  penetrated  heaven,  and  moved  the  desires  of  the  Most 
High  God  to  enjoy  them,  according  to  the  word  of  the 
Prophet :  ''  Send  forth  flowers  as  the  lily,  and  yield  a  sweet 
odor,  and  put  forth  leaves  unto  grace.''  So  bright  in  its 
opening  was  this  spiritual  flower — the  first  flower  of  earth — 
that  even  the  eye  of  God,  looking  down  upon  it,  could  see 
no  speck  or  stain  upon  the  whiteness  of  its  unfolding  leaves. 
" Thou  art  all  fair,  my  Beloved  ! "  He  exclaimed,  "and 
there  is  no  spot  or  stain  upon  thee."  And  this  flower — this 
Spring  flower — this  sacred  plant — ^that  was  to  rear  its  gentle 
head,  unfold  its  white  leaves,  and  show  its  petals  of  purest 
gold,  was  Mary,  who  was  destined  from  all  eternity  to  be 
the  mother  of  Jesus  Christ.  She  was  the  earth's  Spring,  full 
of  promise,  full  of  beauty,  full  of  joy ;  she  was  the  earth's 
Spring  that  was  to  be  the  herald  of  the  coming  Summer,  and 
of  the  full,  unclouded  light  of  God's  own  sun  beaming  upon 
her.  And,  just  as  the  little  leaf  that  comes  forth  in  the  corn- 
field to-day,  holds  in  its  tiny  bosom  the  promise  of  a  full  ear 
of  wheat,  bending  its  rich,  autumnal  head,  the  staff  of  life  to 
all  men,  so  Mary's  coming,  from^  the  beginning,  was  a  herald 
and  a  promise  of  His  appearance  upon  the  earth, — was  the 
announcement  that  that  little  plant  was  to  grow  and  endure, 
until  it  was  to  be  crowded  with  the  purity  of  God,  and  to 
bring  forth  the  bread  of  life,  the  manna  of  heaven,  the 
bread  of  angels,  Jesus  Christ,  the  world's  Redeemer,  the 
Word  made  flesh. 

How  well,  therefore,  dearly  beloved  brethren,  how  well 
does  not  this  fair  Spring  month  of  May,  this  opening  of  the 
Summer  of  the  year,  testify  in  nature  what  Mary  was  in  the 
order  of  grace.  And,  just  as  the  Almighty  God  clothes  this 
month,  in  the  order  of  nature,  with  every  beauty,  fills  the 
fields  with  fragrance,  clothes  the  hillsides  with  the  varied 
garb  of  beauty  that  nature  puts  forth, — so  tender,  so  fair  in 


THE  MONTH  OF  MART.  223 

its  early  promise ;— so,  also,  the  Almighty  God  clothed  the 
spiritual  Spring  of  man's  redemption,  which  was  Maiy,  in 
every  form  of  spiritual  beauty,  and  robed  her  in  eyery  richest 
garb  of  divine  loveliness  of  which  a  creatme  was  capable; 
so  that  every  gift  in  God's  hand  that  a  human  creature  was 
capable  of  rec^eiving,  Mary  received.  For  in  her  the  word 
of  my  text  was  to  be  fulfilled.  It  was  a  strange  promise, 
beloved  ;  a  strange  and  a  startling  word  that  came  from  the 
inspired  lips  of  the  Psalmist,  as  he  said,  speaking  of  His 
chosen  :  "  I  have  said,  you  are  God's,  and  all  of  you  the 
sons  of  the  Most  High!"  That  word  was  never  fulfilled 
until  the  Son  of  the  Most  High  became  the  son  of  a  woman. 
This  was  the  meaning  of  St.  Augustine,  when  he  says:  '^God 
came  down  from  heaven,  in  order  that  He  might  bring  man 
from  earth  to  heaven,  and  make  him  even  as  God."  Thus 
it  was  that  man,  in  the  Child  of  Mary,  united  with  God, 
became  the  son  of  the  Most  High.  Thus  it  was  that,  in 
virtue  of  the  union  of  the  human  and  divine  which  took 
place  in  Mary,  we  have  all  received,  by  the  grace  of  adop- 
tion, the  faculty  to  become  children  of  God.  ''But  to  as 
many  as  received  Him,"  says  St.  John,  "  to  them  did  He 
give  the  power  to  be  made  the  sons  of  God."  And  this  was 
the  essential  mission,  the  inherent  idea  of  Christianity, — to 
make  men  the  sons  of  God ;  to  make  you  and  me  the  sons  of 
God,  by  infusing  into  us  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
bringing  forth,  in  our  lives,  and  in  our  actions,  and  in  our 
thouo-lits,  and  in  our  inner  souls,  as  well  as  in  the  outer  man, 
the  graces  and  glorious  gifts  that  Jesus  Christ  brought  down 
to  our  humanity  in  Mary's  womb. 

Never  has  tliis  idea  been  lost  to  the  Catholic  Church.  My 
friends  and  brethren,  you  are  living  now  in  the  midst  of 
strangers.  You  hear  the  ^\dldest  theories  propounded  every 
day,  in  philosophy,  in  science ;  but  in  nothing  are  the  theo- 
ries or  the  vagaries  of  the  human  mind  so  strange  as  when 
they  take  the  form  of  religious  speculation  or  religious  doubt. 
The  notion  prevalent  among  all  men  outside  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  nowadays  is,  that  man  has  within  him,  naturally, 
without  the  action  of  God,  without  the  action  of  Christ,  the 
seeds  of  the  perfection  of  his  life ;  that,  by  his  own  etiorts, 
and  by  his  own  study,  and  by  what  is  called  the  spirit  of 
progress,  a  man  may  attain  \o  the  perfection  of  his  own 
being  without  God,  and  become  all  that  God  intended  him  to 


f24  FA  THE n  BVBKE'S  DISCO  UBSES. 

become.  That  notion  is  antagonistic  to  and  destrnctive  of 
the  very  first  vital  principle  of  Christianity.  The  vital 
principle  of  Christianity  is  this  :  the  Son  of  God  came  down 
from  heaven  and  btcame  man,  and  the  child,  the  true  child, 
of  a  woman,  in  order  that  mankind,  in  Him  and  through  Him, 
might  be  able  to  clothe  itself  with  His  virtues,  and  so  become 
like  to  God.  And  in  that  likeness  to  God  lies  the  whole 
perfection  of  our  being  j  and  the  end  of  Christianity  is  to 
bring  every  sufficient  agency  to  bear  upon  man ;  to  make 
that  man  like  to  God ;  to  make  him  as  the  Son  of  God.  "  I 
have  said,  '  Ye  are  God's,  and  all  of  you  sons  of  the  Most 
High!'" 

God  is  a  God  of  truth.  Man  must  be  a  man  of  truth  in 
order  to  be  like  to  God.  God  possesses  the  tnith.  He  does 
not  seek  for  it.  He  has  it.  He  does  nof  go  groping, 
sophisticating,  and  thinking,  and  arguing  in  order  to  come  at 
the  trath.  Truth  is  God  Himself.  And  so,  in  like  manner, 
man,  to  be  a  child  of  God,  must  have  the  trath,  and  not  look 
for  it.  God  is  sanctity  and  purity  in  Himself.  Man  must 
be  holy  and  pure,  in  order  to  be  made  the  son  of  God.  He 
must  be  free  from  sin,  in  order  to  be  like  to  God,  the  Father. 
He  must  have  a  power  over  his  passions  to  restrain  them, 
to  be  pure  in  thought,  in  w^jrd,  and  in  action,  in  soul  and  in 
body,  before  he  can  be  made  like  to  the  Son  of  God.  And 
that  religion  alone  which  has  the  truth  and  gives  it;  which 
has  grace  and  gives  it ;  which  touches  sin  and  destroys  it ; 
which  enables  the  soul  to  conquer  the  body;  which  holds  up 
in  her  sanctuaries  the  types  of  that  purity  which  is  the  high- 
est reflection  of  the  infinite  purity  of  Jesus  Christ ; — that 
religion  alone  can  be  the  true  religion  of  God.  Eveiy  other 
religion  is  a  lie.  But  the  world  is  unable  to  believe  this. 
Men  compromise  with  their  passions.  Men  go  to  a  certain 
extent  in  satisfying  their  evil  inclinations.  Men  refuse 
to  accept  the  truth  because  the  truth  humbles  them. 
Hence  the  Protestant  maxim :  "  Read  the  Bible,  read  the 
Bible,  and  do  not  listen  to  any  priest!  These  Catholics 
are  a  priest-ridden  people  !  Whatever  the  priest  says  in 
the  Church  is  law  with  the  Catholics."  They  refuse  the 
humility  of  this.  They  will  not  take  the  truth.  They 
must  find  it  for  themselves;  and  the  man  who  seeks  it,  by 
the  very  fact  of  seeking  it,  shows  he  is  not  the  son  of  God. 
I   say  this  much  because,  my  dear  friends,  I  wish  you  to 


THE  MONTH  OF  MARY.  225 

guard  against  the  wild,  reckless  spirit  that  is  abroad  in  the 
world  to-day  ;  I  wish  to  guard  you  in  your  fidelity  to  tlie 
Church  of  God,  your  mother,  in  your  fidelity  to  her  teaching, 
in  your  fidelity  to  lier  Sacraments ;  that  word  that  she  puts  on 
my  lips  and  on  those  of  such  as  1  am — that  sacramental  grace 
that  she  puts  into  the  hands  of  the  priest  for  you ;  these  are 
the  elements  of  your  salvation  ;  tliese  are  the  means  by  which 
every  one  of  you  may  become  the  chikl  of  God:  and  there 
is  no  perfection,  no  scheme  of  perfection,  no  secret  of  success, 
no  plan  of  progress  outside  of  this  that  is  not  an  institution 
of  the  eneni}^,  ''  a  delusion,  a  mockery,  and  a  snare."  And 
all  this  we  get  through  Mary,  because  Mary  was  the  chosen 
instrument  in  the  hands  of  God  to  give  to  Him  that  human 
nature  in  which  man  was  made  even  to  the  Son  of  God. 

]\Iary's  coming  upon  the  earth,  therefore,  was  a  Spring-time 
of  grace.  Mary's  appearance  in  this  world  was  like  the 
morning  star  when,  in  the  morning,  after  the  darkness  and 
tempest  of  the  night,  the  sailor,  standing  on  the  prow  of  the 
ship,  looks  around  to  find  the  eastern  point  of  the  horizon, 
and  he  sees,  suddenly  rising  out  of  the  eastern  wave,  a  silver 
star,  beautiful  in  its  pure  beauty,  trembling  as  if  it  were  a 
living  thing.  And  he  knows  that  there  is  the  east,  for  this 
is  the  morning  star.  He  knows  that  precisely  in  that  point, 
in  a  few  moments,  the  sun  will  rise  in  all  his  splendor ;  and 
he  knows  that  that  sun  is  coming,  because  the  herald  that 
proclaims  the  sun  has  risen.  The  raoming  star  proclaims  to 
the  wild  wanderer  on  the  deep,,  in  the  eastern  horizon,  the 
advent  of  the  coming  day.  So  with  us,  upon  the  wild  and 
angry  waves  of  sin  and  of  error,  and  of  God's  auger  and  curse. 
Our  poor  humanity,  shipwrecked  in  the  garden  of  Eden ;  our 
poor  humanity,  without  even  the  wreck  left  to  us  of  the  Sac- 
rament of  Penance;  our  poor  humanity,  groping  in  the 
sacrifices  and  in  the  oblations  of  the  world,  for  the  love  of 
God,  the  Redeemer,  the  day-star  whose  light  was  to  illumine 
the  darkness  of  the  world ; — behcdd,  suddenly,  the  Morning 
Star  rises,  the  pale,  trembling,  silver  beauty  of  Mary  !  Then 
it  was  known  that  speedily,  and  in  a  few  years,  the  world 
would  behcdd  its  Redeemer,  and  mankind  would  be  saved  in 
the  fulness  of  Mary's  time.  Therefore  it  is  that  she  enters 
so  largely  into  the  scheme  and  plan  of  redemption,  that  the 
Almighty  God  willed  that,  even  as  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ 
was  to  be  made  known  to  all  men,  was  to  be  glorified  of  all 


226  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

men,  was  to  "be  proclaimed  as  the  only  name  under  heaven 
by  which  man  was  to  he  saved ;  so,  also,  side  by  side  with 
this  purpose  of  God's  declaration  of  the  glory  of  His  divine 
Son,  came  the  prophecy  of  ^Mary,  from  the  same  spirit,  that, 
wherever  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  was  heard  and  revered, 
there,  and  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  all  generations  were  to 
call  her  blessed.  ''He  that  is  mighty  hath  wrought  great 
things  in  me,"  she  says:  ''wherefore,  behold,  henceforth 
all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed." 

And  now,  ni}^  friends,  going  back  to  the  fountain-head  of 
om'  Christianity,  going  back  to  the  earliest  traditions  of  the 
Church  of  God,  examining,  with  the  light  of  human  scrutiny, 
her  spirit,  as  manifested  in  the  earliest  ages  of  her  being,  in 
the  earliest  documents  she  presents  us  with,  does  not  every 
man  find  that  wherever  the  true  religion  of  Christ  was  propa- 
gated, wherever  there  was  the  genius  and  the  instinct  of  faith 
that  adored  Jesus  Christ,  there  came  the  fellow-instinct  and 
genius  that  loved,  and  revered,  and  venerated,  and  honored 
the  woman  who  was  His  mother.  If  every  other  proof  of  this 
was  wanting,  there  is  one  proof — a  most  emphatic  proof — and 
it  is  this  :  that  while  the  blessed  Virgin  Mary  was  yet  living, 
during  the  twelve  years  that  elapsed  before  her  assumption 
into  heaven,  a  religious  Order  was  organized  in  the  Catholic 
Church,  devoted  to  the  veneration,  and  the  love,  and  the 
honor  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  A  religious  Order  dating  from 
the  early  times  of  the  prophets — a  religious  Order  founded  by 
the  sons^  of  the  prophets,  under  the  Jewish  dispensation,  was 
converted  to  Christianity,  and  at  once  banded  itself  together 
and  called  itself  "The  Brethren  of  Our  Lady  of  Mount 
Carmel."  No  sooner  was  Our  Lady  assumed  into  heaven, 
than  these  men  spread  themselves  through  Palestine  and 
through  the  East ;  and  the  burden  of  their  teaching  and  their 
devotion  was  the  glory  of  the  Mother  of  God ;  the  woman 
who  brought  forth  the  Man-God,  Jesus  Christ.  No  sooner 
was  the  Gospel  preached  than  the  devotion  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Mary  spread  with  the  rapidity  of  thought,  of  senti- 
ment, and  of  love,  through  all  distant  parts  j  and  when,  five 
hundred  years  later,  a  man  rose  up  and  denied  that  Mary  was 
the  Mother  of  God,  we  read  that  when  the  Church  assembled 
at  Ephesus,  in  General  Council,  the  people  came  from  all  the 
surrounding  countries,  and  the  great  city  of  Ephesus  was 
overcrowded  with  the  anxious  people,  all  waiting  for  the 


THE  MONTH  OF  MARY.  227 

result  of  the  deliberations,  and  all  praying ;  and  when,  at 
last,  the  Council  of  the  Holy  Church  of  God  put  forth  its 
edict,  declaring  that  3Iary  was  the  true  ^Mother  of  God,  we 
read  of  the  joy  that  came  from  the  people's  hearts,  the  cry  of 
delight  that  rang  from  their  lips;  the  ''  All  Hail !  "  that  they 
gave  to  you,  Mother  in  Heaven,  spread  throughout  the  uni- 
versal Church  ;  and,  never,  among  the  many  conclusions  of 
her  Councils,  for  eighteen  hundred  years,  never  did  the  h(jly 
Catholic  Church  give  greater  joy  to  her  children,  than  when 
she  proclaimed,  in  the  fifth  centmy,  that  Mary  was  the  Mother 
of  God,  and,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  that  Mary  was  con- 
ceived without  sin. 

But  as  we  are  entering  upon  this  May's  devotions,  I  wish, 
dearly  beloved,  to  bring  unto  your  notice  this  very  devotion 
of  the  Month  of  Mary  as  a  wonderful  instance  of  the  rapidity 
with  which  this  devotion  to  the  Mother  of  God  spread 
throughout  the  Catholic  Church. 

It  was  at  the  beginning  of  this  present  century  that  this 
devotion  of  the  Month  of  Mary  sprang  up  in  the  Catholic 
Church:  and  the  circumstances  of  its  origin  are  most  wonderful. 
Some  seventy  years  ago,  or  thereabouts,  a  little  child — a  poor 
little  child  scarcely  come  to  the  use  of  reason, — on  a  beautiful 
evening  in  May,  knelt  down,  and  began  to  lisp  with  childish 
voice  the  Litany  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  before  the  image  of 
the  Child  in  the  anns  of  the  Madonna,  in  one  of  the  streets 
in  Rome.  One  little  child  in  Rome,  moved  by  an  impulse 
that  we  cannot  account  for — apparently  a  childish  freak — 
knelt  down  in  the  public  streets  and  began  saying  the  Litany 
that  he  heard  sung  in  the  church.  The  next  evening  he  was 
there  again  at  the  same  hour,  and  began  singing  his  little 
Litany  again.  Another  little  child,  a  little  boy,  on  his 
passage,  stopped,  and  began  singing  the  responses.  The 
next  evening,  three  or  four  other  children  came,  apparently 
for  amusement,  and  knelt  before  the  same  image  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  and  sang  their  Litany.  After  a  time — 
a  few  evenings — some  phms  women,  the  mothers  of  the  chil- 
dren, delighted  to  see  the  eai'ly  piety  of  their  sons  and 
daughters,  came  along  with  them,  and  knelt  down,  and 
blended  their  voices  in  the  Litany ;  and  the  jjriest  of  a  neighbor- 
ing church,  said  :  '*  Come  into  the  clnu'ch,  and  I  will  light  a 
few  candles  on  the  altar  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  we  will 
all  sing  the  Litany  together."      And  so  they  went  into  the 


228  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

church ;  they  lighted  up  the  candles,  and  knelt ;  and  there 
they'  sang  the  Litany.  He  spoke  a  few  words  to  them  of 
the' Blessed  Virgin,  about  her  patience,  about  her  love  for  her 
Divine  Sun,  and  about  the  dutiful  veneration  in  which 
she  was  held  by  her  Son.  From  that  horn*  the  devotion  of 
the  month  of  May  spread  throughout  the  whole  Catholic 
world ;  until,  within  a  few  years,  wherever  there  was  a 
Catholic  church,  a  Catholic  altar,  a  Catholic  priest,  or  a 
Catholic  to  hear  and  respond  to  the  Litany,  the  month  of 
May  became  the  Month  of  Mary,  the  month  of  devo- 
tion to  the  Blessed  Virgin.  Is  not  this  wonderful!  Is 
not  this  perfectly  astonishing?  How  naturally  the  idea 
came  home  to  the  Catholic  mind  !  With  what  love  it  has 
been  kept  up  !  How  congenial  it  was  to  the  soil  saturated 
Tv^th  the  Di\nne  grace  through  the  intelligence,  as  illumined 
by  Divine  knowledge  and  Divine  faith  !  Does  it  not  re- 
mind you  of  that  wonderful  passage  in  the  Book  of  Kings, 
where  the  prophet  Elias  went  up  into  the  mountain-top, 
when  for  three  years  it  had  not  rained  on  the  land,  and 
the  land  was  dried  up ;  and  he  went  up  on  the  solitary 
summit  of  the  mount,  there  to  breathe  a  prayer  to  God  to 
send  rain  upon  the  land  ?  While  he  was  praying,  in  a  cave 
in  the  I'ock,  he  told  his  sei'vant  to  stand  upon  the  summit 
of  the  mountain,  and  to  watch  all  round,  and  to  give  him 
notice  wlien  he  saw  a  cloud.  The  seiwant  watched,  and 
returned 'seven  times:   "  And  at  the  seventh  time,  behold  a 

little  cloud  arose  out  of  the  sea,  like  a  man's  foot 

And  while  he  turned  himself  this  way  and  that  way,  be- 
hold the  heavens  grew  dark  with  clouds  and  wind,  and 
there  fell  a  great  rain." 

The  word,  '^  Mary,"  means  the  sea — the  Star  of  the  Sea. 
A  few  years  ago,  a  cloud  of  devotion,  no  larger  than  the  foot 
of  a  little  chihl,  in  Rome,  was  seen ;  and  while  men  looked 
this  way  and  that  way,  it  spreads  over  the  whole  horizon  of 
the  Church  of  God,  and  over  the  whole  world;  and  then, 
breaking  in  a  rain  of  grace  and  intercession,  it  brings  an 
element  of  purity,  and  grace,  and  dignity,  and  every  gift  of 
God  to  every  Catholic  soul  throughout  the  world.  Oh  ! 
when  I  think  of  the  women  that  I  have  met  in  the  dear  old 
land  of  Faith  ! — the  women  oppressed  from  one  cause  or 
from  another  ! — some  with  sickness  in  the  house  ;  some  with, 
perhaps,  a  dissolute  son ;    some  with  a  drunken    husband ; 


THE  MONTH  OF  MARY.  229 

some  with  tlie  fear  of  some  great  calamity,  or  of  poverty, 
coming  upon  tliem  ;  some  apprehensive  of  bad  news  from 
those  that  they  hjve  ; — how  often  have  I  seen  them  coming 
to  me  in  the 'month  of  May,  just  in  the  beginning,  and, 
briirhtening  up,  thank  God,  and  say:  '^The  month  is  come  ! 
I  know  she  in  Heaven  will  pray  for  me,  and  that  my  prayers 
will  be  heard  !  "  And  I  have  seen  them  so  often  coming  be- 
fore the  end  of  the  month,  to  tell  me  with  the  light  of  joy  in 
their  eyes,  that  the  Mother  heard  their  prayer,  and  that  their 
petitions  were  granted.  Then  was  I  reminded  of  tliat  mys- 
terious cloud  that  broke  out  in  the  heavens,  and  rained  down 
the  saving  rain.  One  have  I  before  me — one  whom  I  knew 
and  loved — a  holy  nun  who,  for  more  than  fifty  years,  had 
served  God  in  angelic  purity  and  in  heroic  sacrifice.  For 
seven  months  she  was  confined  to  a  bed  of  pain  and  of 
snffering  that  deepened  into  agony.  And  during  those  seven 
months,  her  prayer  to  God  was,  \vhile  suffering,  to  increase 
those  siiffei-ings  ] — not  to  let  her  leave  the  world  until  one, 
whom  she  loved  dearly,  and  who  was  leading  a  bad  and 
reckless  life,  should  be"^  converted  unto  God.  Weeks  passed 
into  months,  and  month  followed  month  ;  and  most  frequently 
did  I  sit  at  the  bedside  of  my  holy  friend.  Month 
followed  month,  for  seven  long,  dreary  months,  and  she 
spent  that  time  upon  the  cross,  truly  with  Jesus  Christ. 
But  when  the  first  day  of  May  came — the  "Month  of 
Mary," — I  came  and  knelt  down  by  her  bedside,  to  cheer 
her  \vith  prayer  and  sjmipathy.  She  said  to  me :  '^  I 
feel  that  the  month  is  come  that  will  give  me  joy  and  relief. 
It  is  Mary's  month  ;  and  it  is  the  month  when  prayer  grows 
most  powerful  in  Heaven,  because  it  is  the  month  in  which 
the  Mother  will  especially  hear  our  prayers."  Before  that 
month  was  over,  he  for  whom  she  prayed  was  converted  to 
God,  with  all  the  fei-vor  of  a  true  conversion  ;  and  when  the 
month  was  drawing  to  a  close,  the  sacrifice  of  pain  an«l 
suffering  was  accepted;  and  she  who  began  the  month  in 
soiTow,  ended  it  with  the  joys  of  Jesus  Christ  and  his  Virgin 
Mother.  So  it  is,  all  the  world  over.  His  secret  graces  are 
l)oured  out  at  the  instance  of  Mary's  prayer.  And  even  as 
she  was  tlie  Spring-time  of  grace  upon  earth,  so  is  she,  even 
now  in  Heaven,  by  h(?r  prayers  for  us,  the  Spring-time  of 
holy  grace,  obtaining  for  us  the  grace  of  repentance,  the 
"•race    of  prayer,    the  grace   of  tejuperance,    the  grace  and 


230  FAIRER  BURKES  DISCOURSES. 

power  of  self-restraint  5 — in  a  word,  whatever  grace  we 
demand,  that,  springing  up  in  our  souls,  will  produce  to-day 
the  flower  and  leaf  of  promise — to-morrow,  the  fruit  of 
maturity — and  for  eternity,  the  reward  of  grace  which  is  the 
everlasting  crown  of  God's  glory. 


THE  POSITION  AND  DIGNITY  OF  THE  MOTHER 
OF  GOD. 

[A  Sermon  delivered  by  Very  Rev.  T.  N.  BurTce,  O.P.,  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Vincent  Ferrer,  New  York,  May  2,  1872.  ] 

"  And  to  the  disciple  Jesus  said  :  Son,  behold  thy  mother." 

Deaelt  Beloved  :  On  last  evening  I  endeavored  to 
descnbe  to  you  tlie  beautiful  hannony  and  analogy  between 
the  tilings  of  nature  and  the  spiritual  things  of  grace,  so 
admira))ly  developed  and  illustrated  in  the  dedication  of  the 
month  of  May  to  the  Blessed  Vijrgin  Mary  j  and  I  told  you 
then  that  on  this  evening  I  should  endeavor  to  unfold  to  you 
the  place  and  the  position  which  the  mother  of  our  divine 
Lord  holds  in  the  plan  of  man's  redemption.  Now,  there  are 
two  great  classes  that  occupy  the  world  to-day, — two  classes 
of  men,  who  differ  in  their  apprehension  of  the  design  of  God 
as  revealed  in  the  redemption  of  man.  The  first  are  those 
who  say,  or  seem  to  say,  that  we  did  not  stand  in  need  of 
redem})tion  at  all.  They  deny  the  fall  of  manj  they  deny 
the  inherent  sinfulness  of  man ; — consequently,  they  deny 
the  necessity  of  the  Incarnation  of  Almighty  God.  They 
deny  the  necessity  of  the  Sacraments,  or  their  efficacy;  and 
they  say  that  man's  constitution  is  such,  that, — within  himself, 
in  the  very  elements  of  his  nature, — by  the  mere  development 
of  his  natural  powers,  he  may  attain  to  all  the  purposes  of 
God,  and  to  the  full  perfection  of  his  being. 

Such,  for  instance,  is  the  doctrine  of  the  wide-spread  sect 
of  Socinians.  Such,  in  a  great  measure,  are  the  ideas  of  a 
number  of  other  sects;  the  Unitarians,  the  Humanitarians, 
believers  in  human  nature  alone ;  Progressists,  men  who 
look  to  this  world  and  to  its  scientific  attainments,  and  to  its 
great  developments  as  eflected  by  man,  and  reflected  in  the 
spirit  and  in  the  intelligence  of  man,  for  all  the  perfection  of 
Innnanity  and  of  society.  This  class  takes  in  all  those  who  re- 
ject any  definite  form  of  religion  at  all  j  who  put  away  from 


232  FATHFR  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

them  all  idea  of  the  necessity  of  any  fixed  faith.  This  idea  re- 
presents the  vast  multitude  of  mankind,  to  be  found  every- 
where, and  nowhere  more  numerous  than  here,  in  this  very  land, 
— the  men  who,  with  the  most  accurate  ideas  on  business,  on 
commercial  transactions,  on  law,  on  politics,  are  only  found 
to  be  following-  an  inaccurate  comprehension ;  careless,  in- 
definite, and  not  only  ignorant  of,  but  willing  to  be  ignorant 
of  every  specific  form  of  defined  faith,  or  belief  in  revelation 
at  all.  The}^  do  not  give  enough  to  God  in  theu'  thoughts, 
in  their  minds,  in  the  acknowledgments  of  their  souls  upon 
this  question  of  man's  redemption. 

There  are,  on  the  other  band,  a  vast  number  who  profess 
Christianity,  who,  if  you  will,  give  too  much  to  God  in  this 
matter  of  redemption  ;  who  say  that  when  the  Son  of  God 
became  man.  He  effected  the  redemption  of  mankind  so  com- 
pletely,— that  He  wiped  away  the  world's  sin  so  utterly, — 
that  all  we  have  to  do  is  to  lean  upon  Him,  to  govern  our- 
selves by  faith,  together  with  His  justification,  His  merits  ; 
and  that,  without  any  concurrent  labor  of  our  own,  without 
any  work  on  our  part,  but  only  the  easy  operation  of  ^^  believ- 
ing in  Christ/'  as  they  put  it — that  we  can  be  saved.  Hence 
we  hear  so  much  about  justification  by  faith,  and  we  hear  so 
much  ribald  abuse  of  the  Catholic  Sacraments,  of  fasting,  of 
the  Holy  Mass,  of  all  the  exterior  usages  and  sacramental 
appliances  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church ;  all  mocked  at,  all 
derided  as  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  true  religion,  which  simply 
is,  according  to  them,  to  believe  with  all  your  soiil  in  Jesus 
Christ,  in  His  redemption,  in  His  atonement, — and  all  your  sins 
are  cleansed  !  A  man  may  have  a  thousand  deeds  of  murder 
upon  his  soul :  a  man  may  have  loaded  himself  with  every 
most  hideous  forai  of  impurity  j  a  man  may  have  injm'ed  his 
neighbor  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left,  and  may  have 
enriched  himself  upon  the  spoils  of  his  dishonesty — there  is  no 
law  either  of  the  relations  of  God  to  man,  or  of  man  to  his 
fellow-man  ;  but  onty  '4)elieve  in  God  and  you  are  saved!" 

Hence,  we  hear  of  so  many  who  go  out  to  ''camp-meetings" 
and  ''prayer-meetings,"  and  there  work  themselves  into  a 
state  of  excitement,  and  say,  "  Oh,  I  have  found  the  Lord 
Jesus !  I  have  found  him  !  "  There  is  no  more  question 
about  that ;  they  are  confirmed ;  they  are  "  the  elect ;"  they 
are  the  "perfect;"  they  are  the  "regenerated;"  and  there  is 
an  end  to  all  their  previous  sins.     They  need  not  shed  a  tear 


THE  DIG XI TV  OF  THE  MOTHER  OF  GOD.  233 

of  soiTow ;  l»nt  only  l»elievc  in  tlie  Lord.  Tliey  need  not 
make  an  act  of  contrition,  they  need  not  mortify  their  bodies, 
but  only  believe  in  the  Lord.  It  is  a  smooth  and  a  very  easy, 
a  remarkably  easy,  doctrine  ;  and,  if  it  only  led  to  Heaven,  it 
Avould  be,  indeed,  a  sweet  and  an  easy  way,  by  which  Me 
could  enjoy  ourselves  here  as  long  as  we  liked,  in  the  in- 
dulgence of  every  vile  passion;  and  afterwards  turn  and  '^lean 
upon  the  Lord,"  and  thus  get  into  Heaven. 

Between  these  two  extremes, — the  extreme  of  unbelief, 
and  the  mistaken  view  and  zeal  of  what  appears  to  be  an 
over-feixent  faith,  but  which  in  reality  is  not  faith  at  all, — be- 
cause faith  means  the  apprehension  of  the  truth,  and  not  a  dis- 
torted view  of  this  text  or  that  of  Scripture  ; — between  these 
two  extremes  stan(}s  the  Holy  Catholic  Church  of  God ;  and 
she  tells  us  as  against  the  first  class, — the  "  Humanitarians," — 
that  we  are  a  fallen  race ;  that  sin  is  in  our  blood  ;  that  sin 
is  in  our  nature ;  that  that  nature  is  deformed,  disfigured  by 
sin ;  that  the  very  fountain-head  of  our  humanity  was  cor- 
rupted in  Adam  ;  and  just  as,  if  you  disturb  the  fountain-head 
of  the  stream, — if  you  poison  it, — the  whole  current  that 
ilows  from  is  muddy  and  disturbed,  or  poisonous;  so  the 
\\  hole  stream  of  our  humanity  that  flows  from  the  sin  of  Adam 
is  tainted  and  disfigured  and  poisoned  by  sin ;  consequently 
that  we  stood  in  need  of  a  Redeemer,  who  would  atone  for 
our  sins,  and  would,  by  sacrificing  Himself,  and  making  Him- 
self a  victim,  wipe  away  the  sin  of  mankind. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Holy  Catholic  Church  teaches  us, 
as  against  the  second  class,  that  two  wills,  two  actions  are 
necessary  for  man's  salvation ;  namely,  the  w'ill  of  God 
and  the  will  of  the  man  who  is  to  be  saved ;  that  w'e 
must  unite  our  will  with  God,  and  determine  to  be 
saved  ;  otherwise  that  the  will  of  God,  which  is  never  wanting, 
will  not  alone  avail  for  the  sanctification  or  the  salvation  of 
any  man.  That  we  must  not  only,  with  God,  will  our  sal 
vation,  but  that  we  must  work  with  God  in  the  work  of  our 
salvation,  according  to  the  words  of  St.  Paul :  "  Li  fear  and 
trembling  we  must  work  out  our  salvation."  That  althouo-h 
the  gift  of  salvation  comes  from  God,  and  is  His,  yet  that  He 
will  not  give  it  exce})t  to  the  man  who  strains  himself  to  lay  ' 
hold  of  it,  according  to  that  other  word  of  the  Apostle  :  ''Lay 
hold  of  eternal  life."  God  is  amply  sufiicient  to  save  us ; 
God  is  willing  to  save  us.     We  can  only  be  saved  by  His 


234  FA  THEE  B  URKE'S  DISCO  UBSES. 

graces.  But  if  we  do  not  lay  4iold  of  tliese  graces,  and  cor- 
respond with  them,  there  is  no  salvation  for  us.  Just  as  if 
you  saw  a  man  who  had  fallen  into  the  sea,  and  you  threw 
him  a  rope,  by  which,  if  he  lay  hohi  of  it,  you  can  take  him 
into  yom'  boat,  or  draw  him  on  to  the  land  ; — you  are  willing  to 
save  him  5  you  are  anxious  to  save  him  ;  you  have  actually  put 
into  his  hands  the  means  by  which  he  may  be  saved  j  but  if 
he  refuses  to  lay  hold  of  that  means  of  salvation,  if  he  refuses 
the  gift  of  life  that  you  offer  him,  you  cannot  force  him ;  and 
so  he  is  lost  by  his  own  fault. 

Now,  as  it  requires,  for  the  salvation  of  every  man  among 
us,  two  wills,  two  distinct  actions, — the  will  and  the  action  of 
God,  our  will  and  our  action  corresponding  with  His, — so  also, 
in  the  Redemption,  two  things  were  necessary  in  order  that 
man  might  be  saved.  First  of  all,  it  was  necessary  to  find 
some  victim  whose  very  act  was  of  such  infinite  value  in  the 
sight  of  God,  that  he  might  be  available  for  the  salvation  of 
mankind,  and  capable  of  atoning  to  God's  infinite  honor  and 
glory,  which  w^as  outraged  by  sin.  A  victim  must  be  found 
whose  very  act  is  of  infi.nite  value.  And  why  ?  Because  the 
atonement  which  he  comes  to  make  is  infinite ;  because  no 
creatm'e  of  God,  acting  as  a  creature,  with  finite  merit  and 
power,  and  the  circumscribed  action  of  a  creature,  could  ever 
atone  to  Almighty  God  for  sin,  which  is  an  infinite  evil. 
The  first  thing,  therefore,  that  is  necessary  is  an  infinite 
power  of  atonement,  an  infinite  power  of  merit  in  the  \'ictim 
for  man's  sin.  The  second  thing  that  is  necessary  for 
redemption  is  a  willingness  and  capability  on  the  part  of  the 
atoner  to  suffer,  and  by  his  sufferings,  and  by  his  saciifices, 
and  by  his  atonement,  to  wash  away  the  sin.  Where  shall 
this  victim — of  infinite  merit,  yet  a  victim, — be  found  !  If 
we  demand  the  first  condition — namely,  the  power  of  restor- 
ing to  God  that  infinite  honor  and  glory  wliich  was  outraged 
by  sin  j  if  we  demand  this,  we  may  seek  in  vain  throughout 
all  the  ranks  of  God's  creatures;  we  may  mount  to  the 
heaven  of  heavens,  and  seek  throughout  the  choirs  of  God's 
holy  angels ;  we  shall  never  find  him,  because  such  a  one  is 
seated  upon  the  throne  of  God  Himself.  God  alone  is  infin- 
ite in  His  sanctity,  in  His  graces;  and,  if  He  will  consent  to 
be  a  victim,  in  His  power  of  atonement,  God  alone  can  do 
it.  Man  could  place  the  cause  there, — man  could  commit 
the  sin  J  the  hand  of  God  alone  can  take  that  sin  'away  by 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  MOTHER  OF  GOD.  235 

atonement.  And  yet,  strange  to  say,  dearly  beloved  brethren, 
God  alone  cannot  do  it ;  becanse  God  alone  cannot  furnish 
us  with  the  second  privilege  of  the  atoner, — namely,  the 
character  of  a  victim.  How  can  God  suffer?  How  can  God 
be  moved  ?  How  can  God  bleed  and  die  !  He  is  happiness, 
glory,  honor,  and  greatness  itself;  how  can  He  be  humbled 
who  is  above  all  things — infinitely  glorious  in  His  owti 
essence?  How  can  He  be  grieved  who  is  the  essential 
hap})iness  of  Heaven!  He  must  come  down  from  Heaven, 
and  He  must  take  a  nature  capable  of  suffering  and  pain  and 
of  the  shedding  of  blood :  He  must  take  a  nature  capable  of 
being  abused  and  crashed  and  victimized,  or  else  the  world 
can  never  find  its  Redeemer.  Yet  He  must  take  that  nature 
so  that  every  thing  that  He  does  as  a  victim,  and  every  thing 
that  He  suffers  as  a  victim,  in  that  nature,  must  be  attributed 
to  God.  It  must  be  the  action  of  God ;  it  must  be  the 
suff'ering  of  God,  or  else  it  never  can  be  endowed  with 
the  infinite  value  which  is  necessary  for  the  atonement  of 
man's  sin. 

Behold,  then,  the  two  great  things  that  we  must  find,  that 
God  found  in  the  plan  of  His  redemption.  God  furnished 
one;  the  earth  fm'uished  the  other.  God  furnished  the 
infinite  merit,  the  infinite  grace,  the  infinite  value  of  the 
atonement  in  His  own  divine  and  uncreated  Word,  the  Second 
Person  of  the  Holy  Trinity  ;  but  when  it  was  a  question  of 
finding  a  victim — of  finding  a  nature  in  which  this  Word 
should  operate,  in  finding  the  nature  in  which  this  Word  was 
to  be  grieved,  and  to  be  bruised,  and  to  bleed,  and  to  weep, 
and  to  pray  for  man, — God  was  obliged  to  look  down  from 
Heaven  and  find  that  nature  upon  the  earth. 

Therefore,  my  dearly  beloved  brethren.  Heaven  and  Earth 
united  in  producing  Jesus  Christ ;  and  it  is  as  necessary  for  us 
to  believe  in  the  reality  of  the  divinity  that,  coming  down  from 
Heaven,  dwelt  in  Him,  as  it  is  for  us  to  believe  in  the  reality 
of  the  humanity  Avhich  was  assumed  and  absorbed  by  Him 
into  His  Divine  person.  A  man  may  exalt  the  divinity  at 
the  expense  of  the  humanity,  and  may  say  :  '^  He  was  divine, 
this  man,  Jesus  Christ ;  but  remember  He  Avas  not  a  true 
man  ;  He  only  took  a  human  body  for  a  certain  purpose  ;  and 
then,  casting  it  from  Him,  went  up  into  the  high  heaven  of 
God."  Tlie  man  who  says  this  is  not  a  Christian  ;  because 
he  does  not  believe  in  the  reality  of  the  human  nature  of 


036  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

Jesus  Christ.  Heretics  have  said  tliis :  and  the  Church  cut 
them  off  with  an  anathema.  Or  we  may  exalt  His  humanity 
at  the  expense  of  His  divinity,  and  say :  "He  was  a  true 
man,  but  lie  was  not  united  to  God  by  personal  union ; 
He  was  not  a  divine  person  but  a  human  pers<ni :  He  was  a 
true  man,  this  man  who  was  crucified  for  our  sins — true  and 
holy  and  perfect, — but  not  God."  Heretics  have  said  this, 
and  say  it  to-day.  Even  Mahomet  acknowledged  that  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  the  most  perfect  of  men,  but  He  was 
not  God.  The  man  who  says  this  is  ni^t  a  Christian ;  be- 
cause he  does  not  believe  in  the  Divinity  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Now,  I  think  that,  from  wliat  I  have  said,  you  must  at 
once  conclude  that,  in  the  plan  of  man's  redemption,  the 
di\dnity  was  as  necessary  as  the  humanity  ;  that  the  human- 
ity was  as  necessary  as  the  divinity :  that  the  world  could 
never  be  redeemed  without  the  divinity;  that  man  alone 
C(juld  not  do  it :  that  the  world  could  never  be  redeemed 
without  the  humanity  5  for  God  alone  could  never  suffer. 
What  follows  fnjm  all  this  f  It  follows,  my  dearly  beloved, 
in  logic  and  in  truth,  that,  for  the  world's  redemption,  Mary 
on  earth  was  as  necessary  as  the  Eternal  Father  in  heaven. 
That  in  the  decrees  and  councils  of  God — in  the  plan  of 
God, — the  Mother  of  His  humanity  was  as  necessary  as  the 
Father  of  His  divinity ;  and  that  she  rises  at  once,  in  the 
designs  of  God,  to  the  magnificent  part  that  was  assigned  to 
her  in  the  plan  of  redemption,  namely  :  that  the  world  could 
not  be  redeemed  without  her,  because  she  gave  the  human 
nature  of"  Jesus  Christ,  without  which  there  was  no  redemp- 
tion for  man.  Who  died  upon  the  Cross?  The  Son  of  God. 
Whose  hands  were  these  that  were  nailed  to  that  hard  wood  ? 
The  hands  of  the  Son  of  God.  What  person  is  this  that  I 
behold,  all  covered  ^ith  wounds,  and  bleeding  and  crowned 
with  thorns  ?  Who  is  this  sorrow-stricken  person  f  That  is  the 
Second  Person  of  the  adorable  Trinity  ;  the  same  God,  begot- 
ten in  Him,  consubstantial  to  the  Father,  who  was  from  the 
beginning,  and  by  whom  all  things  were  made.  And,  if  this 
be  the  Son  of  God,  what  right  has  that  woman  to  look  up  to 
Him  with  a  mothei-'s  eyes  ?  What  right  have  these  dying  lips 
to  address  her  as  mother  ?  Ah  !  because,  dearly  beloved,  He 
was  as  truly  the  Son  of  Mary  as  He  was  the  Son  of  God. 

And  now,  as  I  wish  to  take  my  o\\ti  time,  and  to  enter 
fully  into  all  these  things  in  successive  meditations,  let  me 


THE  DiaXITY  OF  THE  MOTHER  OF  GOD.  237 

conclude  \\\i\\  only  one  remark.  Since  I  came  to  the  use  of 
reason,  and  learned  my  catecliism,  and  mastered  the  idea 
tliat  was  tano-lit  me  of  liovv  God  in  heaven  planned  and 
designed  the  redem})tion  of  mankind, — the  greatest  pnzzle 
in  my  life — a  thing  that  I  never  could  understand — has  been, 
how  any  one,  believing  what  I  have  said,  could  refuse  their 
veneration,  their  honor,  and  their  love  to  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
Mother  of  Jesus  Christ.  For  it  seems  to  me  that  nothing  is 
more  natural  to  the  heart  of  man  than  to  be  grateful ;  and 
that  in  proportion  to  the  gift  which  is  received  from  any  one, 
ill  the  same  proportion  do  we  find  our  hearts  springing  with 
gratitude  within  us,  and  a  strange  craving,  a  strange, 
dissatisfied  feeling  to  find  out  how  we  can  express  that 
gratitude  that  we  feel.  And  is  this  a  sacred  feeling  ?  Most 
sacred  5  natural,  but  most  sacred.  We  find  in  the  Scriptures 
the  loud  tone  of  praise,  honor,  and  veneration,  and  the 
gratitude  which  the  inspired  writers  poured  forth  towards 
those  who  were  great  benefactors  of  mankind,  and  espe- 
cially to  the  women  of  the  Old  Testament.  How  loud,  for 
instance,  are  the  praises  the  Scriptures  give  to  the  daugh- 
ter of  Jephtha,  because  she  sacrificed  herself,  accord- 
ing to  her  father's  vow,  for  the  people.  How  loud  the 
praises  which  celebrated  the  glorious  w<mian,  Deborah, 
who,  in  the  day  of  distress  and  danger,  headed  the  army  of 
Israel,  drew  the  sword,  and  the  Scriptures  say  that  all  the 
peoi)le  praised  her  for  evemiore,  and  they  sang,  ^'  Blessed 
be  God,  because  a  mother  has  arisen  in  Israel."  How  loud 
are  the  praises  of  Esther,  of  whom  the  Scriptures  tell  us  that 
the  Jews  celebrated  an  annual  festival  in  her  honor,  be- 
cause she  interceded  with  the  King  Ahasueiiis,  and  saved 
the  people  from  destruction.  How  loud  the  praises  of 
Judith,  who,  coming  forth  from  the  city  upon  the  rocky  sum- 
mit of  the  mountain,  with  her  womanly  hand  slew  the  enemy 
of  Israel  and  of  Israel's  God,  Holoferues ;  and,  returning  in 
triumpli,  the  ancients  of  the  citv  came  forth  and  cried  out, 
"  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel ;  and  thou — thou  art  the 
glory  of  Jerusalem  :  thou  art  the  joy  of  Israel;  thou  art  the 
honor  of  our  people."  And  yet,  what  did  Deborah,  or  Es- 
ther, or  Judith — what  <]id  any  of  these,  or  any  other  man 
or  woman  on  the,  face  of  the  earth,  do  for  us  comj)ared  with 
what  Mary  did?  Judith  cut  off  the  head  of  Ht)lofernes  : 
Mary  set  her  heel  on  the  head  of  the  serpent  that  was  the 


238  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

destruction  of  onr  race.  Esther  pleaded  for  the  people  he- 
fore  the  Assyrian  monarch,  and  saved  them  from  temporal 
rnin  :  Mary  pleaded,  and  pleads,  to  the  King  of  kings,  to  the 
King  of  Heaven,  and  saves  the  people  from  destruction. 
Jephtha's  daughter  gave  her  life  :  Mary  brought  down  ''  the 
Life."  indeed,  "from  Heaven,  and  gave  it  to  us.  Yet,  strange 
to  say,  those  who  are  constantly  talking  about  '^  the  Bible  j 
the  open  Bible ;  the  Bi))le  free  to  every  man ; "  those  who 
call  themselves  Bible  men  5  those  in  whose  oily  mouths  this 
Bible  is  always, — every  text  of  it  coming  forth  as  if  you 
taught  a  paiTot  in  its  cage  to  recite  it, — understanding  it  as 
much  as  the  bu'd  would ;  these  are  the  very  people  who  tell 
us  that  we  may  join  with  the  Jews  of  old  in  the  praises  of 
Esther  and  of  Deborah ;  we  may  ciy  out  in  tones  of  admiration 
for  Mary,  the  sister  of  Moses,  or  for  Rachel  5  but  we  must 
not  say  a  word  to  express  our  gratitude,  our  love,  our  vener- 
ation, and  our  honor  for  the  woman,  the  woman  amongst 
women,  the  spiiitual  mother  of  all  our  race,  because  her  child 
was  our  first-born  brother ;  the  woman  that  gave  us  Jesus 
Christ ;  the  woman  that  gave  to  Him  the  blood  that  flowed 
from  His  veins  upon  Calvary,  and  saved  the  world  !  For  this 
woman  no  word,  save  a  word  of  reproach,  an  echo  of  the 
hisses  of  hell,  an  eclio  of  the  sibilation  of  the  infernal  ser- 
pent that  was  crushed  by  God  !  Clirist  honored  her  ;  yet  we 
must  not  unite  with  Him  in  her  honor !  Christ  obeyed  her  ; 
yet  we  must  not  unite  with  Him  in  obeying  her !  Christ 
loved  her ;  yet  we  must  not  let  one  emotion  of  love  for  her 
into  our  hearts. 

AYlio  are  the  men  that  say  this  1  I  have  heard  words 
from  their  lips  which  they  would  not  permit  any  man  to  say 
of  their  own  mothers ;  and  yet  they  had  the  infernal  hardi- 
hood to  say  these  words  of  the  Mother  of  Jesus  Christ,  of  the 
Mother  of  the  Son  of  God  ! 

And,  now,  my  friends,  I  believe  we  can  in  nowise  better 
employ  this  month  of  May,  and  its  devotions,  than  in  making 
reparation  to  our  Lord  and  Sa^dour,  and  to  His  holy  Mother, 
for  the  insults  that  fall  upon  Him  when  tliey  are  put  upon 
her.  The  deepest  insult  that  you  could  offer  to  any  man 
would  be  to  insult  his  mother ;  and  the  more  perfect  the 
child  is,  and  the  more  loving,  the  more  keenly  will  lie  feel 
that  insult.  He,  with  His  dying  lips,  provided  for  Mary, 
His  Mother,  a  second  son,  the  purest  and  the  most  loving 


THE  niGXITY  OF  THE  MOTHER  OF  GOD.  239 

amono'st  men.  It  ^liows  how  He  thought  of  her  at  His  last 
moments  li^>^'  ^^^e  was  the  dearest  object  that  He  left  upon 
this  earth.  And  that  which  is  dear  to  the  heart  of  Jesus 
Christ  should  always  he  dear  to  your  hearts  and  minds. 
Next  to  the  love,  eternal,  infinite,  essential,  that  bound  Him 
in  His  divinity  to  His  eternal  Father, — next  to  that  in 
strength,  in  intensity,  in  tenderness,  was  the  love  that  hound 
Him  to  the  Mother  who  came  into  closest  relations  with  Him. 
And,  0  Lord  Jesus  Christ !  teach  us  to  love  what  Thou 
lovedst,  and  so  revere  and  honor  that  which  Thou  didst 
condescend  to  honor. 


MARY,  THE  IMMACULATE  MOTHER  QF  GOD. 

I A  Sermon  delivered  by  Very  Rev.  T.  N.  Burke,  O.P.,  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Vincent  Ferrer,  New  YorJc,  May  'S,  1872.] 

^'  Thou  art  all  fair,  O  my  beloved,  and  there  is  no  spot  or  slightest 
stain  in  thee." 

These  words,  beloved  brethren,  are  found  in  the  Canticles 
of  Solomon ;  and  the  Holy  Catholic  Churcli  applies  them 
to  tlie  soul  and  body  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  In  the 
Scriptures,  the  King  addresses  his  spouse  by  these  words. 
The  King  represents  no  other  than  the  Almighty  God.  And, 
surely,  if,  among  all  the  daughters  of  men,  we  ask  ourselves, 
who  \vas  the  spouse  of  Almighty  God  ?  we  must  immediately 
answer,  the  Virgin  Mother  who  brought  forth  the  eternal 
God  made  man.  -Wherever,  therefore,  the  Scriptures  and 
the  inspired  writings  of  the  Old  Law  speak  words  of  love, 
and  denote  attributes  belonging  to  a  spouse,  these  are  directly 
applicable  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary. 

Now,  among  the  many  gifts  and  graces  which  the  Prophet 
beheld  in  her, — and  upon  which  he  congratulates  her, — are 
these  ;  he  tells  us  that  he  saw  her  "  at  the  King's  right  hand, 
in  golden  garb,  siuTounded  with  variety;"  that  every  thing 
of  beauty  and  loveliness  was  upon  her ;  but,  in  addition  to 
this,  he  tells  us  that  a  vision  of  such  perfect  purity,  such  per- 
fect immaculateness  rose  before  his  eyes,  that,  filled  with  the 
Holy  Ghost  and  the  joy  of  God,  he  exclaimed :  ^'  Thou  art 
all  fair,  0  my  beloved!  and  there  is  no  spot  or  slightest  stain 
in  thee."  Behold,  then,  dearly  beloved,  the  first  great  grace 
that  the  Virgin  of  vu'gins  received  at  the  first  moment  of  her 
existence. 

When  we  reflect  upon  the  relationship  which  the  Incar- 
nation of  our  Divine  Lord  established  between  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Mary  and  the  Almighty  God — namely,  that  she 
should  be  the  Mother  of  God, — that  He,  taking  His  sacred 
humanity  from  her,  should  be  united  to  her,  so  as  to  be 
the  flesh  of  her  flesh,  and  the  bone  of  her  bone ; — that  He 


THE  IMMACULATE  MOTHER  OF  GOD.  241 

was  to  be  altogether  hers,  as  the  child  belongs  to  the  mother 
at  birth, — and  in  this  new  relation  of  His  humanity  He  was 
not  to  suffer  the  slightest  diminution  of  the  infinite  sanctity 
which  belonged  to  Him  as  God ; — when  we  reflect  upon  all 
this,  and  see  the  awful  proximity  in  which  a  creature  is 
brouglit  to  Almighty  God  in  this  mystery  of  man's  redemp- 
tion^ — the  very  first  thought  that  strikes  the  mind  is,  that 
God  must  have  forfeited  something  of  His  holiness,  or  else 
the  creature  that  He  selected  for  His  mother  must  have  been 
all  pure,  all  holy,  and,  so,  fit  to  be  the  Mother  of  God ; — 
either  God  must  have  forfeited  some  of  His  holiness,  coming 
to  one  personally  a  sinner,  taking  tainted  blood, — the  natm*e 
that  belonged  to  us  that  He  took  in  her,  and  which  was  a 
broken,  a  disfigured,  and  a  deformed  nature,  tainted  with 
sin,  and  steeped,  if  you  will,  in  sin; — for  what,  after  all,  is 
the  record  of  man's  history  but  a  record  of  sin  ?-^r,  else, 
Mary  must  have  been  sinless. 

But,  if  the  Almighty  God  took  that  nature  from  one  who 
bore  in  her  own  blood  the  personal  taint  of  the  universal  sin, 
we  must  conclude  that  He  thereby  compromised  His  own 
infinite  holiness ; — ^nay,  that  He  did  more  than  this ;  that  He 
contradicted  His  own  word :  for  the  word  of  God  is,  that 
nothing  defiled,  nothing  tainted  shall  come  near  to  Almighty 
God.  The  soul  that  departs  from  this  world  with  the  slight- 
est taint  of  sin  on  it  must  pay  to  the  last  farthing,  and  purge 
itself  into  perfect  purity  before  it  can  catch  a  glimpse  of  God 
in  heaven.  And  if  this  immaculateness  and  purity  be  neces- 
sary in  order  even  to  behold  God,  think  of  the  purity,  think 
of  the  immaculateness  that  must  have  been  necessary  to 
Mary,  in  order  to  fit  her  not  only  to  behold  God,  but  to  take 
Him  into  her  bosom;  to  give  Him  the  very  human  life 
that  He  lived ;  to  give  Him  the  very  nature  that  He  took 
and  united  to  Himself  in  the  unity  of  His  own  divine 
person  ; — to  give  him  that  humanity  that  He  literally  made 
Himself! 

What  infinite  puiity,  what  perfect  innocence  and  immacu- 
lateness did  these  involve :  unless,  indeed,  we  are  willing  to 
conclude  that  tlie  Almighty  God  came  into  personal  contact 
with  a  sinner,  and  so  allowed  something  not  undefiled  to 
come  into  contact  with  Him.  But  no ;  the  mystery  which 
brought  so  much  suffering,  so  much  humiliation,  so  much  sad- 
ness and  sorrow  to  the  eternal  Son  of  God,  brought  to  Him 

11 


242  FATHEB  BUBKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

no  compromise  "\\itli  sin ;  brought  to  Him  no  defilement  of 
His  own  infinite  sanctity ;  did  not  in  the  least  lower  Him 
from  that  standard  of  infinite  holiness  which  is  His  essence 
and  nature  as  God.  And,  therefore,  it  was  necessary  that, 
coming  to  redeem  a  sinful  race,  the  individual  of  that  race 
froni  whom  He  took  His  most  sacred  humanity  should  be 
perfectly  pure  and  immaculate. 

;More  than  this,  we  know  that  the  Almighty  God  never 
yet  called  any  creatm'e  to  any  dignity  or  to  any  office  with- 
out bestowing  upon  that  creature  graces  commensurate  with 
the  greatness,  the  magnificence,  and  the  duties  which  He 
imposed  upon  him.  Hence  it  is  that  we  find  when  He  was 
about  to  create  the  Prophet  Jeremiah, — when  He  was  about 
to  make  him  a  prophet,  to  put  His  divine  inspiration  into  his 
mind  ; — when  He  was  about  to  send  this  man  to  announce  His 
vengeance  to  the  people  5 — the  Scriptures  expressly  tell  us 
that  He  sanctified  that  man  in  his  mother's  womb,  before  he 
was  bom,  and  that  the  infant  prophet  came  into  this  world 
without  the  slightest  taint  of  sin.  Hear  the  words  of  Scrip- 
ture : — "  The  word  of  the  Lord  came  to  me,  saying  :  Before 
I  formed  thee  in  thy  mother's  womb,  I  knew  thee ;  and 
before  thou  camest  forth  out  of  the  womb  I  sanctified  thee, 
and  made  thee  a  prophet  unto  the  nations."  So,  in  like 
manner,  wdien  the  Almighty  God  created  the  man  who  was 
to  arrive  at  the  highest  dignity  of  the  prophets — namely,  not 
onl}^  to  proclaim  the  coming  .of  God,  but  to  point  out  God 
amongst  men  in  the  person  of  our  Saviour, — John  the  Bap- 
tist, created  for  the  .high  and  holy  purpose, — created  to  be 
amongst  men  what  Gabriel,  the  Archangel,  w^as  to  Mary, — 
namely,  the  revealer  of  the  Divine  counsels, — God  sanctified 
him  in  his  mother's  w^omb ;  and  John  the  Baptist  was  born 
without  sin. 

If  the  Almighty  God  sanctifies  a  man  before  his  birth, 
anticipates  the  sacramental  regeneration  of  circumcision, 
sanctifies  him  before  the  sacrament,  as  in  the  case  of  Jeremiah 
and  John  the  Baptist,  simply  because  that  man  was  called 
to  the  ofiice  of  proclaiming  the  word  of  God,  surely  there  must 
have  been  some  distinctive  sanctity,  some  especial  grace  in- 
reserve  for  Mary,  as  much  higher  than  the  grace  of  the 
Prophet  or  of  the  prevision  of  the  Baptist,  as  Mary's  office 
transcends  theirs.  Jeremiah  had  but  to  announce  the  Word 
of  God  revealed  to  him :  Mary  it  was  who  was  to  bring  forth 


THE  IMMACULATE  MOTHER  OF  GOD.  243 

the  Word  of  God  incarnate  in  her  immacnlate  womb.  John 
the  Baptist  was  to  point  Him  ont  and  say,  '^  Behold  the  Lamb 
of  God  :  "  Mary  was  to  h(dd  Him  in  her  arms  and  say  to  the 
worhi,  "This  Lamb  of  God,  who  is  to  save  all  mankind,  is 
my  Son."  And,  therefore,  it  is  that, — as  her  office  exceeded 
that  of  prophet,  preacher,  and  precnrsor,  as  her  dignity  so  far 
transcended  any  thing  that  heaven  and  earth  could  ever  know 
or  imagine  in  a  creature, — so  the  Almighty  God  reserved  her 
alone  among  all  that  He  created  upon  this  earth,  that  she 
should  be  conceived,  as  well  as  boni,  without  sin : — that  the 
stream  of  sin  which  touched  ns  all,  and  in  its  touch  defiled 
us,  should  never  come  near  nor  soil  the  immaculate  Mary  ; — 
that  the  sin,  which  mixed  itself  up  in  our  blood  in  Adam, 
and.  upon  the  stream  of  that  blood,  found  its  way  into  the 
heart,  into  the  veins,  of  every  child  of  this  earth,  could  never 
flow  in  the  immaculate  veins  that  furnished  to  Jesus  Christ 
the  blood  in  which  He  washed  away  the  world's  sin.  There- 
fore, the  Almighty  God  for  this  took  thought  and  forethought 
from  all  eternity.  "  The  Lord  possessed  me,"  says  the 
Scripture,  '^  in  the  beginning  of  His  ways,  before  He  made 
any  thing  from  the  beginning."  That  is  to  say,  in  the  divine 
and  eternal  counsels  of  Almighty  God,  Mary  arose  in  all  the 
splendor,  in  all  the  immaculate  whiteness  of  her  sanctity  and 
purity,  the  first,  the  grandest,  and  the  greatest  of  all  the 
designs  of  the  eternal  wisdom  of  God ;  because  in  her  was 
to  be  accomplished  the  mystery  of  mysteries,  the  mystery  that 
was  hidden  from  ages  with  Christ  in  God, — namely,  the 
Incarnation  of  the  Eternal  Word. 

Thus  did  the  Prophet  behold  her,  as  she  shone  forth  in 
the  eternal  counsels  of  God,  when  he  looked  up  in  that 
inspired  moment  at  Patmos,  and  saw  the  heavens  opened 
and  all  the  glories  of  God  revealed,  there  in  the  midst  of 
the  choirs  of  God's  angels,  there  in  the  full  blaze  and  efi'ul- 
gence  of  the  light  descending  from  the  Father  of  Light;  and 
he  exclaimed  :  "  I  beheld,  and  lo  !  a  great  sign  appeared  in 
Heaven;  a  Woman  clothed  with  the  sun,  and  the  moon 
beneath  her  feet,  and  on  her  head  a  crown  of  twelve  stars." 
Who  was  this  woman  ?  ^Lirk  what  follows,  and  you  will 
know  for  yourselves.  "  And  she  brought  forth  a  man-child, 
who  was  to  rule  all  nations  with  an  iron  rod ;  and  her  son 
was  taken  up  to  God  and  to  His  throne."  Who  can  she 
be  but  the  woman  that  brought  forth  the  man-child,  Jesus 


244  FA  THEB  B  UBKE'S  DISCO  UBSES. 

Christ,  the  Son  of  God  ?  Thus  did  the  Prophet  behold  her, 
the  sign  of  promise,  of  victory,  and  of  glory.  And  how 
significant  are  the  mysterious  words  that  follow  : — "  And 
the  Serpent  cast  out  of  his  mouth,  after  the  Woman,  water, 
as  it  were  a  river,  that  he  might  cause  her  to  be  carried 
away  by  the  river.  And  the  earth  helped  the  Woman ;  and 
the  Earth  opened  her  mouth  and  swallowed  up  the  river 
which  the  Dragon  cast  out  of  his  mouth.''  The  earth, 
indeed,  swallowed  up  those  fatal  waters ;  the  whole  world 
was  saturated  with  them ;  but  they  never  touched  the 
Woman  :  and  we  behold  in  this  the  mystery  of  the  Immaculate 
Conception,  for  I  can  call  it  nothing  else  than  a  mystery  of 
divine  grace,  which  is  a  triple  triumph,  namely,  the  triumph 
of  God,  the  triumph  of  human  natui'e,  and  Mar^^'s  own 
triumph  and  glory. 

Consider  these  things,  my  friends.  First  of  all,  let  us 
consider  God's  triumph  in  Mary.  Recollect,  dearly  beloved, 
the  circumstances  that  attended  the  fall  and  the  sin  of  man. 
God  made  as  in  a  perfect  nature  j — |:)erfect  in  its  organization, 
perfect  in  its  beautiful  harmony,  perfect  in  its  origin,  perfect 
in  its  eternal  destiny,  perfect  in  the  freedom  and  the  glory 
with  which  He  crowned  the  unfallen  man.  '^  Thou  hast 
made  him  little  less  than  the  angels ;  thou  hast  crowned  him 
with  honor  and  glory.''  Then  came  sin  into  this  world,  and 
spoiled  the  beautiful  work  of  God.  All  the  fairest  work  of 
God  was  destroyed  by  Adam's  sin.  The  integrity  of  our 
nature  was  injured.  The  harmony  of  creation  was  disturbed. 
Bad  passions  and  evil  inclinations  were  let  loose  j  and  the 
soul  with  its  spiritual  aspirations,  its  pure  love  and  unshackled 
freedom,  became  their  slave.  But  although  the  devil 
triumphed  over  God,  in  thus  breaking,  destroying,  defiling, 
and  spoiling  God's  work  in  man,  yet  his  triumph  was  not 
perfect.  God  wished  still  to  vindicate  Himself.  God  would 
not  give  His  enem^^  a  total  and  entire  triumph  over  Him,  in 
the  destruction  and  spoiling  of  His  work.  God  set  Mary 
aside  and  said :  "  For  her,  let  there  be  no  sin ;  for  her,  no 
soiling  influence ;  for  ber,  no  taint."  He  took  her,  in  His 
eternal  designs,  into  the  bosom  of  His  own  infinite  sanctity 
and  omnipotent  power ;  and,  while  all  our  nature  was 
destroyed,  in  her  it  retained  its  original  purity,  integrity,  and 
beauty,  in  the  one  soul  and  body  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
Maiy. 


THE  IMMACULATE  MOTHER  OF  GOD,  245 

Thus  we  see  God's  triumph.  And  here  it  is  worthy  of 
remark,  dearly  beloved,  that,  although  in  Scripture  we  often 
read  of  God's  desig-ns  being  frustrate*!,  of  God's  work  being 
overturned  and  spoiled  by  sin  or  some  evil  agency  j — yet  it 
is  never  totally  spoiled.  God  never  gives  a  complete  triumph 
to  His  enemy.*  Thus,  for  instance,  in  the  beginning,  at  the 
time  of  the  Deluge,  all  mankind  were  steeped  in  sin  j  and 
God,  looking  down  from  Heaven,  said :  "  I  am  sony  that  I 
created  this  race )  for  My  spirit  is  no  longer  among  them." 
Yet,  even  then,  did  the  Almighty  God  reserve  to  Himself 
Noah  and  his  children;  and,  out  of  the  whole  race  of 
mankind  these  were  saved  in  purity  and  sanctity,  that  God 
might  not  be  utterly  conquered  by  the  devil.  Again,  when 
the  Almighty  God  prepared  to  rain  down  fire  upon  Sodom, 
He  could  not  find  ten  holy  men  in  the  land.  And  yet,  in 
the  universal  coriTiption,  Lot  and  his  family  were  saved. 
They  were  holy,  where  all  else  was  unholy,  and  they  pre- 
served God  in  their  hearts.  Again,  when  the  tribe  of  Benjamin 
was  destroyed  from  among  the  other  tribes  of  Israel,  a  few 
were  saved,  that  God's  work  might  not  be  utterly  destroyed. 
And  so  the  Prophet,  speaking  of  the  Jewish  people,  says :  "  If 
tjie  Children  of  Israel  were  as  the  sands  of  the  sea,  yet  a  rem- 
nant shall  be  saved."  Thus  it  is  that  we  find,  invariably,  that 
the  Almighty  God  allows,  in  His  wisdom  and  in  His  ven- 
geance, the  devil  to  go  to  a  certain  point,  and  to  revel  in 
destiTLction  so  far ;  but  yet,  suddenly  He  stays  him :  God 
stretches  out  His  hand  and  says  :  ''Thus  far  shaJt  thou  go, 
and  no  farther." 

This  ought  to  be  a  good  lesson  to  us  in  our  day.  True, 
it  seems  to  us,  in  this  our  day,  that  this  devil  of  pride,  this 
devil  of  infidelity,  this  devil  of  revoluti(m,  this  devil  of  self- 
assertion,  is  let  loose-among  the  nations,  to  play  riot  with  the 
Church  of  God,  to  strike  the  crown  from  oflf  the  Pontitt'^s 
head,  to  pervert  the  ancient,  faithful  nation  which  has  upheld 
him  for  centuries,  and  make  it  the  bitterest  enemy  of  the 
Church,  and  to  deprive  the  Head  of  the  Church,  for  the  time, 
of  power.  To-day,  this  devil  rims  riot  in  the  world,  shut- 
ting up  Catholic  churches,  expelling  Jesuits,  tainting  the 
fountains  of  education,  h)osening  the  sacred  bonds  of  mar- 
riage and  of  society,  blaspheming  Christ  in  the  Eucharist, 
persecuting  His  priests  and  bishops  and  representatives  upon 
eailh.      But  we  know  that,  at  some  moment  or  other,  and 


246  FATHER  BURKES  DISCOURSES. 

when  we  least  expect  it, — perhaps  right  in  the  mid  career  of 
its  apparent  ghory, — the  terrible,  invisible  hand  will  be  put 
forth,  and  a  voice  will  be  heard  :  "  No  more — back  !  So 
far  in  My  vengeance,  and  so  far  even  in  My  mercy,  I 
have  allowed  yon.  Back  !  Let  there  be  peace."  So  the 
Aliniglity  God  triumphed  even  in  the  fall  of  Adam,  which 
brought  death  into  the  world,  polluted  our  blood,  stirred  up 
tlie  passions,  destroyed  the  equilibrium  and  hannony  of 
human  nature,  and  caused  the  very  beasts  of  the  forest  to 
assume  the  savageness  that  they  have  to  this  day.  All 
nature  was  tainted  except  that  of  Mary.  Her  the  hand  of  the 
Omnipotent  Lord  held  high  above  all  attacks  and  attempts 
of  her  enemies :  and  in  Mary  God  has  triumphed,  in  that,  in 
her  His  glory  has  been  preserved,  she  never  having  been 
tainted  with  or  spoiled  by  sin. 

It  is,  also,  the  triumph  of  our  nature,  my  friends.  If  Mary 
had  not  been  conceived  without  sin,  we  might  have  been 
redeemed,  we  might  have  saved  our  souls,  as  we  hope  to  do 
now  J  we  might  have  gone  np  into  the  glory  of  Heaven;, 
but  a  perfect  human  being  we  never  could  have  seen. 
Heaven  would  be  a  congregation  of  penitents  if  Mary  were 
not  there :  tears  upon  their  faces ;  but  no  tears  upon  thine, 
O  Immaculate  Mother !  the  blood  of  Christ  upon  the  hand^ 
of  all  J  but  no  blood  of  thy  divine  Son  upon  thy  immaculate 
hands,  0  Mary !  The  unfallen  man  would  have  been 
a  thing  of  the  past.  Even  in  Heaven,  the  representative  of 
what  God  had  made  in  Adam  would  be  wanting  if  Mary 
were  not  there.  And,  therefore,  our  nature  has  triumphed  in 
her.  We  may  all  look  up  to  her  in  Heaven  5  we  may  all  con- 
template her ;  and  we  may  glorify  our  humanity  in  Mary 
without  the  slightest  fear  of  pride  or  blasphemy  against  God, 
because  the  humanity  that  is  in  Mary,  being  conceived  with- 
out sin,  is  worthy  of  all  honor  and  of  all  glory. 

I  will  not  compare  her  in  her  Immaculate  Conception  with 
sinners}  I  will  compare  her  with  the  Saints,  and  behold 
how  she  towers  above  them.  All  sanctity, — whether  it  be 
wrought  out  by  years  of  penance,  by  fasting  and  mortifica- 
tion, by  laborious  efforts  for  the  conversion  of  souls,  by 
ntter  consecration  and  sacrifice  to  G(jd,  by  martyrdom,  by 
any  form  of  sanctity, — attains  to  but  one  thing  5  and  that 
is  perfect  sinlessness  and  perfect  purity  of  soul.  Perfect 
sinlessness  and   perfect  purity  of  soul  mean  perfect  union 


THE  IMMACULATE  MOTHER  OF  GOD.  2A7 

by  the  highest  form  of  divine  love  with  Almighty  God. 
God  so  loves  us,  dearly  beloved,  that  He  wishes  to  have  us 
all  together  united  to  Him  by  that  intimate  union  of  the 
strongest  and  most  ardent  love.  How  is  it  that  that 
union  is  not  effected  ?  Because  of  some  little  imperfection, 
some  little  sinfulness,  some  little  crookedness  in  oiu'  souls, 
which  keeps  us  from  that  perfect  union  of  love  with 
God.  Now,  the  aim  of  all  the  Saints  is"  to  attain  to  that 
ai'dent  and  perfect  union  with  God,  by  pm'ging  from  their 
souls,  from  their  bodies,  from  their  affections,  and  from  their 
senses,  eveiy  vestige  or  inclination  or  even  temptation  to  sin. 
When  they  have  attained  to  that,  God  crowns  their  sinless- 
ness  with  a  perfect  union  of  love ;  and  they  have  attained  to 
the  acme  or  summit  of  their  desires.  It  is  here — precisely 
where  all  the  Saints  have  ended — ^here,  precisely  where  all 
the  Saints,  tired  and  fatigued  with  the  labors  of  their  upward 
journey,  knelt  down  in  blessed  rest,  on  the  summit  of  Chris- 
tian perfection — that  Mary's  sanctity  begins ;  for,  in  her  Im- 
maculate Conception,  she  was  conceived  without  sin.  No 
thought,  or  shadow  of  thought  "to  sin  allied,"  was  ever 
allowed  to  fall  upon  the  pure  sunshine  of  her  soul.  No  temp- 
tation to  sin  was  ever  allowed  to  quicken  the  pulsations  of 
her  sacred  heart.  Nothing  of  sin  was  ever  allowed  to 
approach  her.  Entrenched  in  the  perfect  sinlessness  of  her 
Immaculate  Conception,  the  moment  she  was  conceived,  she 
surpassed  in  sanctity, — that  is  to  say,  in  perfect  sinlessness, 
and,  consequently,  in  perfect  union  of  love  with  God, — all  of 
the  Saints  and  Angels  in  heaven.  This  is  the  meaning  of 
the  words  in  Scripture,  where  the  Prophet  says  :  "  Wisdom 
built  unto  itself  a  house ;  and  the  foundation  thereof  is  laid 
upon  the  summits  of  the  holy  mountain.  The  Lord  loveth 
the  threshold  of  Sion  more  than  the  palaces  and  tabernacles 
of  Judah."  You  know  that  every  word  of  Scripture  has 
a  deep  and  Godlike  meaning.  What  meaning  can  these 
words  have?  Apply  this  to  Mary's  sanctity;  we  find  the 
first  moment  of  her  existence  upon  the  summit  of  the  holy 
mountain  :  that  is  to  say,  her  very  first  step  in  life  is  dearer 
to  the  Lord  than  the  palaces  and  tabernacles  of  Judah ;  that 
is,  than  all  the  edifices  of  sanctity  that  were  ever  built  up  on 
this  earth.  This  was  the  beginning — the  conception — of  the 
woman  who  was  destined  to  be  the  Mother  of  God  made 


248  FATHER  BUEEE'S  DISCOURSES.     . 

But,  you  may  ask  me,  in  that  case,  if  she  never  sinned, 
even  in  Adam,* surely  she  stood  in  no  need  of  a  Redeemer; 
surely  she  was  the  only  one  for  whom  it  was  not  necessary 
that  God  should  become  man.  God  became  man  to  redeem 
sinners — to  save  them  j  if  this  woman  did  not  require  redemp- 
tion or  salvation,  why  does  she  say  in  the  ''  Magnificat :  " 
''^Iv  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord,  and  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced 
in  God,  my  Saviour''!  Well,  my  friends,  she  owes  as  much- 
to  the  blood  of  Christ,  shed  on  Calvary,  as  we  do,  and  more. 
He  was  more  her  Saviour  than  om\s.  Whence  came  the 
grace  of  her  immaculate  conception  ? — whence  came  the  power 
that  kept  her  out  of  the  way  wdien  all  the  rest  of  mankind 
w^ere  swept  away  into  the  current  of  sin  ?  It  was  her  divine 
Son,  foreseen  in  the  years  of  His  humanity — foreseen  by  the 
eye  of  God's  justice  in  the  agony  of  His  crucifixion  j  it  w^as 
the  blood  that  was  shed  upon  Calvary  to  save  us  that  saved 
Mary  from  ever  being  tainted  with  sin.  Do  you  not  know 
that  the  Almighty  God  may  save  in  any  way  he  likes  ?  Do 
you  not  know,  my  friends,  that  the  Almighty  God  is  not 
bound  to  save  this  soul  or  that  in  this  or  that  particular  way  ? 
For  instance,  the  Almighty  God  appointed  cu'cumcision  as  - 
the  only  way  by  which  original  sin  was  to  be  removed  under 
the  Old  Law.  And  yet  we  know  that  He  saved  and  sancti- 
fied Jeremiah  and  John  the  Baptist  without  circumcision,  and 
before;  because,  although  circumcision  was  the  ordinary 
way.  Almighty  God  did  not  tie  His  own  hands,  nor  oblige 
Himself  never  to  apply  an  extraordinary  way.  And  so, 
wherever  there  is  a  human  spirit  that  is  saved  and  made  fit 
for  Heaven,  that  saving  and  fitness  are  equally  purchased  by 
the  blood  of  Christ,  and  by  that  alone.  It  saved  Mar}^,  as 
it  saved  us ;  only  in  a  different  manner.  It  saved  us  by 
falling  upon  our  sinful  heads  in  Baptism ; — literally  washing 
away  the  stain  that  was  already  there ;  it  saved  Mary  by 
anticipating  Baptism,  by  removing  her  from  the  necessity  of 
the  Sacrament,  by  anticipation.  In  us  this  bloody  of  Christ 
is  a  cleansing  grace ;  in  Mary  it  was  a  preventing  grace. 
She  is  saved  as  mucb  as  w^e  are.  For  instance,  suppose  a 
wise  prophet — a  man  that  had  a  knowledge  of  the  future — 
w^ere  to  stand  on  the  sea-shore,  and  see  a  number  of  persons 
about  to  embark  on  board  a  ship,  leaving  for  a  distant  port ; 
and  that  he  said  to  one  of  them,  "  That  ship  is  going  to  be 
shipwrecked ;  do  not  go  on  board,"  and  the  person  followed 


THE  IMMACULATE  MOTHER  OF  GOD.  249 

his  advice  and  was  saved ;  the  others  went  on  the  ship,  and 
it  is  wrecked,  as  was  foretold ;  the  prophet  is  there,  by  some 
mysterious  means,  and  saves  them  all ; — he  is  as  much  the 
saviour  of  the  person  who  stayed  on  shore  as  of  those  he 
saved  on  the  vessel  after  it  was  wrecked.  And  so  it  is  with 
God.  He  set  Mary  aside,  and  His  spirit  overshadowed  her 
and  saved  her.  Oh  how  gloriously  did  God  save  her  ! — how 
magnificently  He  vindicated  Himself  in  her ! — how  kindly 
and  mercifully  He  preserved  one  specimen  of  our  pure  and 
unbroken  nature  in  her  !  Well  might  He  hold  her  forth,  as 
it  were,  in  His  omnipotent  hand,  to  frighten  the  devil,  even 
in  the  day  of  his  triumph,  when  He  said,  "  The  woman,  O 
spirit  of  evil,  whom  thou  knowest  well,  shall  crush  thy  head.'' 
Mary  was  the  terror  of  hell  from  the  beginning  j  because 
hell  was  afraid,  from  the  beginning,  of  the  pure,  unfallen 
nature  of  man :  and  that  was  saved  only  in  her. 

Let  us,  therefore,  meditate  upon  these  things ;  and,  giving 
thanks  to  G(xl  for  all  He  did,  for  the  greatest  boon  of  mercy 
to  our  race — in  that  God  so  sanctified  a  creature  that  she 
might  be  worthy  to  approach  Him  ] — and  endeavor,  in  our 
own  humble  way, — by  purifying  our  souls,  putting  away 
fi'om  us  our  sins,  and  weeping  over  the  follies  and  errors 
that  we  have  allowed  to  come  upon  our  souls, — thus  to  fit 
ourselves,  that,  at  some  immeasurable  distance  we,  too, 
may  be  able  to  approach  Him,  and  Mary,  the  Immaculate 
Mother  of  God. 


THE  POPE'S  TIARA— ITS  PAST,  PRESENT  AND 
FUTURE. 

\^A  Lecture  delivered  hy  Very  Rev.  T.  N.  Burlce,  O.P.,  in  the  Academy 
of  Music,  Neio  York,  May  16,  1872,  in  aid  of  the  "  Catholic  Union" 
Fund,  for  His  Holiness,  Pope  Pius  IX.  ] 

Mat  IT  Please  Your  Grace — Ladies  And  Geis^tle- 

MEN" :  The  subject  on  wliicli  I  propose  to  address  you  is,  ''  The 
Pope's  Tiara,  or  Triple  Crown ;  its  Past,  its  Present,  and  its 
Future."  We  read  of  a  celebrated  orator  of  Greece,  that  the 
grandest  effort  he  ever  made  was  in  a  speech  which  he  pro- 
nounced upon  a  crown.  I  wish  I  had,  to-night^  the  genius 
or  the  eloquence  of  Demosthenes  5  for  my  theme,  my  crown, 
is  as  far  beyond  the  glory  of  the  crown  of  which  he  spoke,  as 
my  thoughts  and  my  eloquence  are  inferior  to  his. 

Among  the  promises  and  prophetic  words  that  we  read  in 
Scripture  concerning  our  Divine  Lord  and  Redeemer,  we  read 
that  it  was  prophesied  of  Him  that  He  should  be  a  King; 
that  He  should  rule  the  nations ;  that  He  should  wear  a 
crown  ;  and  that  His  name  was  to  be  called  ^^  The  Prince  of 
Peace."  He  came  ;  He  fulfilled  all  that  was  written  con 
cerning  Him  ;  and  He  transmitted  His  headsliip  and  His 
office  in  the  Holy  Church,  to  be  visibly  exercised,  and  to  be 
embodied  before  the  eyes  of  men  in  the  Pope  of  Rome.  And, 
therefore,  among  the  other  privileges  which  He  conferred 
upon  His  Vicar,  He  gave  him  that  his  brows  should  wear  a 
crown.  Therefore  it  is  that,  from  the  first  day  of  the  Church's 
history,  her  ruler,  her  Pope,  her  head  rises  before  us,  a 
sceptred  man  among  men,  and  crowned  with  a  glorious 
crown.  Therefore  it  is  that,  encircling  his  honored  brows, 
for  ages  the  world  has  beheld  the  triple  crown,  or  tiara,  of 
which  I  am  to  speak  to  you  this  evening.  Every  other  mon- 
arch among  the  nations  wears  for  his  crown  a  single  circlet 
of  gold.  Ornament  it  as  you  will,  there  is  but  one  circle, 
that  would  represent  the  meeting  and  the  centring  in  the 
person  of  the  sovereign  of  all  the  temporal  interests  and 


THE  POPE'S  TIARA.  251 

anthority  of  the  State.  Upon  the  Pope's  brows,  however, 
rests  a  triple  crown,  called  the  tiara.  It  is  made  up  of  three 
distinct  circles  of  gold.  The  first  of  these  is  symbolical  of 
the  universal  episcopate  of  the  Pope  of  Rome, — that  is  to  sa}^, 
of  his  headship  of  all  the  faithful  in  the  Church  ;  for,  "  there 
shall  be  but  one  fold  and  one  shepherd,"  was  Christ's  word. 
The  second  of  these  circles  that  crowns  the  papal  brows 
represents  the  supremacy  of  jurisdiction,  by  which  the  Pope 
governs  not  only  all*  the  faithful  in  the  world  at  large, 
— feeding  them  as  their  supreme  pastor, — but  by  which,  also, 
he  holds  the  supremacy  of  jurisdiction  and  of  power  over  the 
anointed  ministers,  and  the  episcopacy  itself,  in  the  Church 
of  God.  The  third  and  last  circle  of  this  crown  represents 
the  temporal  influence,  the  temporal  dominion  which  the 
Pope  has  exercised  and  enjoyed  for  more  than  a  thousand 
years  in  this  w^orld. 

Behold,  then,  what  this  tiara  means.  Upon  those  great 
festival  days  when  all  the  Catholic  world  was  accustomed  to 
be  represented  by  its  highest,  by  its  best  and  noblest,  by  its 
most  intellectual  representatives  in  Rome,  the  Holy  Father 
was  seen  enthroned,  surrounded  by  cardinals,  patriarchs, 
archbishops,  bishops,  the  priesthood,  and  the  faithful.  There 
he  sat  upon  his  high,  and  ancient,  and  time-honored-throne ; 
and  upon  his  head  did  he  wear  this  triple  crown,  symbolizing 
his  triple  power. 

Now,  my  friends,  in  the  Church  of  God  every  thing  is 
organized  ;  ever}^  thing  is  aiTanged  and  disposed  in  a  wonder- 
ful harmony  which  expresses  the  mind  and  the  wisdom  of 
God  Himself.  And,  therefore,  it  is,  that  in  every  detail  of 
the  Catholic  liturgy  and  worship,  we  find  the  very  highest 
and  the  very  holiest  gifts  symbolized  and  signified  to  the 
man  of  faith.  What  do  those  three  circles  of  the  Pope's 
tiara  symbolize  ?  They  signify,  first  of  all,  the  unity  that 
God  has  set  upon  His  Church.  Secondly,  they  signify  the 
power  and  jurisdiction  that  God  has  coiifen-ed  upon  His 
Church.  And  thirdly,  they  signify  all  these  benefits  of  a 
human  kind,  which  the  Cburch  has  conferred  upon  this 
world  and  upon  society. 

The  first  circlet  of  this  tiara  represents  the  unity  of  the 
Church.  For  it  tells  the  faithful,  that  although  they  may 
be  diffiised  all  the  world  over,  although  they  may  be  counted 
by  hundi'eda  of  millions,  although  they  may  be  found  in  every 


252  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

clime,  and  speaking  every  language ;  altliough  they  may  he 
hroken  up  into  various  forms  of  government,  thinking  in 
varied  forms  of  thought,  having  varied  and  distinguished  in- 
terests in  the  things  that  should  never  perish,  but  abide  with 
them  for  eternity  j  that  moment,  out  of  all  these  varied  ele- 
ments, out  of  these  multiplied  millions,  out  of  these  difierent 
nations,  arises  one  thought,  one  act  of  obedience,  one  aspira- 
tion of  prayer,  one  uplifting  of  the  whole  man,  body  and  soul, 
in  the  unity  of  worship  which  distinguishes  the  Catholic 
Church,  the  spouse  of  Christ.  This  was  the  first  mark  that 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  set  upon  the  brows  of  His  Church. 
He  set  upon  her  the  glorious  seal  of  unity  in  doctrine, — that 
all  men  throughout  the  world  who  belonged  to  her  were  to 
be  as  one  individual  man,  in  the  one  soul,  and  the  one  belief 
of  their  divine  faith.  He  set  upon  her  brows  the  unity  of 
charity  j — that  all  men  were  to  be  one,  in  one  heart  and  in 
one  bond,  which  was  to  bind  all  Christian  men  to  their  fellow- 
men,  through  the  one  heart  of  Christ.  And,  m  order  to  effect 
this  unity,  the  Son  of  God  put  forth,  the  night  before  He 
suffered,  the  tender  but  omnipotent  prayer,  in  which  He  be- 
sought His  Father,  that  the  unity  of  the  Church  should  be 
visible  to  all  men,  and  that  it  should  be  so  perfect  as  to 
represent  the  ineffable  unity  by  which  He  was  one  with  His 
Father,  in  that  singleness  of  nature,  which  is  the  quintessence 
of  the  Almighty  God.  It  was  to  be  a  visible  unity.  It  was 
to  be  an  unity  that  would  force  itself  upon  the  notice  of  the 
world.  It  was  to  be  an  unity  of  thought  and  belief  that 
would  convince  the  world  that  the  one  mind,  the  one  word  of 
the  Lord  of  all  truth,  was  in  the  heart,  and  in  the  intelligence, 
and  upon  the  lips  of  His  Church.  It  would  be  in  vain  that 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  prayed  for  that  unity,  if  it  was  to  be 
a  hidden  thing,  not  seen  and  known  by  men  j  if  it  was  to  be 
a  contradictory  thing,  involving  an  outrage  upon  all  logic 
and  all  reason  ;  as,  for  instance,  the  Protestant  idea  of  unity, 
w^hich  is,  "  Let  U3  agree  to  differ."  "  Let  us  agree  to  differ ! " 
Why,  what  does  this  mean  ?  It  means  something  like  what 
the  Irishman  meant,  when  he  met  his  friend,  and  said :  "  Oh, 
my  dear  fellow,  I  am  so  happy  and  glad  to  meet  you !  And  I 
Mant  to  give  you  a  proof  of  it."  And  he  knocked  him  down ! 
But,  you  remember,  this  was  the  sign  of  love.  And  so  the 
Protestant  logic  of  this  world  says; — ^-Let  us  agree  to  differ." 
That  is  to  say ; — let  us  create  unity  by  making  disunion  ! 


THE  POPE'S  TIARA.  253 

Now,  as  the  Divine,  Eternal,  Incarnate  Wisdom  detennined 
tliat  that  crown  and  countersign  of  unity  shouhi  be  vij^ible 
upon  His  Church,  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for  Him  to 
constitute  one  man^-one  individual  man — as  the  visible  sign 
and  guarantee  of  that  unity  in  the  Church  for  ever.  It  would 
not  have  answered  to  have  left  the  twelve  Apostles,  equal  in 
power,  equal  in  jurisdiction.  For,  all-holy  as  they  were,  all- 
inspired  as  they  were,  if  equal  power  and  jurisdiction  had 
been  left  to  all,'if  no  one  man  among  them  had  been  brought 
forth  and  made  the  head  of  all,  with  all  their  perfection, 
with  all  their  inspiration,  with  all  their  love  for  Christ,  they 
would  not,  being  twelve,  have  represented  the  sacred  piinci- 
ple  of  unity  in  the  Church.  Therefore  did  Christ,  the  Son 
of  God,  from  among  the  Twelve  take  one :  He  called  that 
man  forth,  He  laid  His  hands  upon  Him,  and  said :  "  Hear 
him  !  hear  his  words  !  "  That  He  did  not  say  of  any  of  the 
others,  but  took  care  that  all  the  others  should  be  present  to 
witness  these  words  and  to  acknowledge  their  cbief.  He  took 
that  man  in  the  presence  of  the  Twelve,  and  He  said  to  him, 
to  them  :  "  Hitherto  you  have  been  called  Simon;  now  I  say 
your  name  is  Cephas,  which  means  a  rock ;  and  upon  this 
rock  I  will  build  my  Church."  Again,  in  the  plainest  of  lan- 
guage. He  said  to  that  man  :  "  Thou — thou,  0  rock  !  con- 
fiiTu  thy  brethren !  "  In  the  presence  of  all.  He  demanded 
of  that  man  the  triple,  thrice-repeated  acknowledgment 
and  confession  of  his  love.  ''  Peter,"  He  said  to  him,  "  you 
know  how  dearly  John,  My  \drgin  friend,  loves  Me.  Do  you 
love  Me  more "?  You  know  how  w^ell  all  these  around  Me 
love  Me.  Do  you  love  Me  more  than  all?"  And  until 
Peter  three  times  asserted  that  he  loved  his  Master  with  a 
love  sui*passing  that  of  all  others,  Christ  delayed  His  divine 
commission.  But,  when  the  triple  acknowledgment  was 
made.  He  said  to  Peter :  "  Feed  thou  My  lambs  ;  feed  thou 
My  sheep!"  "There  shall  be  one  fohV'  said  the  Son  of 
God,  "  and  one  shepherd."  That  was  the  visible  unity  of 
the  Church ;  that  was  to  be  the  countersign  of  the  divine 
origin  of  the  Church  of  God  ;  and  that  was  to  be  represented 
unto  all  ages  by  the  one  head  and  Supreme  Pastor  of  all,  the 
Pope  of  Rome. 

Mark  the  splendid  harmony  that  is  here.  The  adorable 
Son  of  God  is  one  with  the  Father  by  the  ineffable  union  of 
nature  from  all  eternity.     The  Sun  of  God  made  man,  still 


254  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

is  man,  and  only  man,  in  the  hypostatical  union  in  whicli  the 
two  natures  met  in  one  divine  person.  The  Church  that 
sprung  from  Christ, — the  Lord  God  and  man  united, — is  to 
be  one  until  the  end  of  time.  And,  therefore,  the  principle 
of  unity  passes,  as  it  were,  from  Christ  to  Peter,  and  from 
Peter  to  each  succeeding  Pontiff',-  so  that  the  Charch  of  God 
is  recognized  by  its  union  with  its  Head,  and  by  that,  the 
One  Head,  wdiich  governs  all.  Therefore  did  St.  Ambrose 
sav :  "  Show  me  Peter  -,  for,  where  Peter  is,  there  is  the 
Church  of  God." 

Now,  you  see  at  once  the  significance  of  that  first  circle  of 
gold  that  twines  round  the  papal  crown.  It  speaks  of  the 
Pope  as  the  supreme  pastor  of  all  the  faithful.  It  speaks  of 
him  as  the  one  voice,  and  the  only  one,  able  to  fill  the  world, 
and  before  whose  utterances  the  whole  Christian  and  Catholic 
world  bows  down  as  one  man.  It  speaks  of  the  Pope  as  the 
one  shepherd  of  the  one  fold  ;  and  it  tells  us  that,  as  we  are 
bound  to  hear  his  voice,  and  as  that  voice  alone  can  resound 
through  the  whole  Church,  which  cannot  by  possibility  pro- 
claim a  lie, — when  the  Pope  of  Rome  speaks  to  the  faithful 
as  supreme  pastor,  pronouncing  upon  and  witnessing  the  faith 
of  the  Catholic  Church, — it  tells  us  that  the  self-same  spirit 
that  preserves  that  Church  from  falling  into  error,  preserves 
her  pastor,  so  that  he  can  never  propound  to  her  any  thing 
erroneous  or  unholy,  or  at  variance  with  the  sacred  morality 
of  the  Christian  law. 

The  second  circle  of  gold  represents  the  second  great  attri- 
bute that  Christ,  our  Lord,  emphatically  laid  upon  His  Church. 
As  clearly  as  He  proved  that  that  Church  should  be  one,  so 
clearly  did  He  pray  and  prophesy  that  that  Church  was  to 
have  power  and  jurisdiction.  "  All  power,"  He  said  to  His 
Apostles,  ^^all  power  in  heaven  and  upon  earth  is  given  unto 
Me."  Beliold  the  Head  of  the  Chm'ch  speaking  to  His  Church. 
"  Given  unto  me ! "  '^  I  am  the  centre  of  that  power."  "  As 
the  Father  sent  me,  thus  endued  with  power,  so  do  I  send 
3'ou."  And  then  He  set  upon  the  brows  of  His  Apostles,  and, 
through  them,  on  the  Church,  the  crown  of  spiritual  power. 
But,  as  all  power  is  derived  from  God,  it  follows  that,  in  the 
Church  of  God,  whoever  represents,  as  viceroy  and  vicar,  su- 
preme pastor  and  ruler  of  the  Church, — whoever  represents 
Christ,  who  is  the  source  of  all  power,  that  man  has  supreme 
jurisdiction  in  the  Church  of  God,  not  only  over  the  Faithful, 


THE  POPE'S  TIARA.  255 

but  over  the  pastors  of  the  flock  and  the  Episcopacy. 
James,  and  John,  and  Andrew,  and  Philip,  and  the  others, 
were  all  Bishops.  St.  Ignatius  of  Antioch,  and  all  the  suc- 
ceeding great  names  that  adorn  the  episcopal  roll  in  the 
Church,— all  had  power;  all  exercised  power ;  and  all  were 
recoo-nized,  as  the  Church  recognizes  them  and  their  success- 
ors still,  as  her  Archbishops  and  Bishops ;  and  all  had  that 
power  by  divine  institution,  and  their  episcopacy  in  the 
Church  is  of  divine  origin ;  and  yet,  that  power  is  so  subju- 
gated and  subordinated,  that  the  Pope  is  the  supreme  Bishop 
of  Bishops,  to  whom  Christ  said  :  "  Feed  not  only  My  lambs,'' 
My  faithful ;  but,  "  feed  My  slieep,"  the  matured  ones  and 
holv  ones  in  the  sanctuary  of  the  Church. 

Finally,  the  third  circle  of  gold  twining  around  that 
time-honored  crown  of  the  tiara,  represents  the  temporal 
power  that  the  Pope  has  T\ielded  for  so  many  centm'ies,  and 
which  has  been  the  cause  of  so  many  blessings,  and  so  niuch 
liberty  and  civilization  to  the  world.  It  was  not  in  the  direct 
mission  of  the  Church  of  God  to  civilize  mankind,  but  only 
to  sanctify  them.  But,  inasmuch  as  no  man  can  be  sancti- 
fied without  being  instracted,  and  thus  having  the  elements 
of  civilization  applied  to  him,  therefore,  indirectly,  but  most 
powerfully,  did  Christ,  our  Lord,  confer  upon  His  Church 
that  she  should  be  the  great  former  and  creator  of  society  ; 
that  she  should  be  the  mother  of  the  highest  civilization  of 
tiiis  world ;  that  she  should  be  the  giver  of  the  choicest  and 
the  highest  of  human  gifts ;  and,  therefore,  that  she  should 
have  that  power,  that  jurisdiction,  that  position,  in  her  head, 
among  the  rulers  of  the  nations,  that  would  give  her  a  strong 
voice  and  a  powerful  action  in  the  guidance  of  human  society. 
And  as  to  the  second  circle  of  this  golden  crown — viz.,  the 
universal  pastorate  of  the  Church — and  the  supremacy,  even 
in  the  sanctuary, — both  of  these  did  Peter  receive  from  Christ ; 
and  these  two  have  been  twined  round  the  Papal  brow  by 
the  verv  hand  of  the  Son  of  God  Himself.  The  third  circle, 
of  temporal  ]K)wer,  the  Pope  received  at  the  hands  of  the 
world ;  at  the  hands  of  human  society ;  at  the  hands  of  the 
people.  And  he  received  it  out  of  the  necessities  of  tlie 
people,  that  he  might  be  their  king,-  their  ruler,  and  their 
father  upon  this  earth. 

Now,  such  being  the  tiara,  we  come  to  consider  it  in  the 
past,  as  history  tells  ua  of  it ;  in  its  present,  as  we  behold  it 


256  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

to-day;  and  in  its  future.  How  o^d  is  this  tiara?  I  answer 
that,  although  the  mere  material  crown  and  its  form  dates  only 
from  about  the  year  1340  or  '42,  and  the  Pontificate  of  Bene- 
dict the  Twelfth,  the  tiara  itself — the  reality  of  it — rtlie  thing 
that  it  signifies — is  as  ancient  as  the  Church  of  God,  which 
was  founded  by  Christ,  our  Lord.  In  the  past,  from  the  day 
that  the  Son  of  God  ascended  into  Heaven,  all  liistory  attests 
to  us  that  Peter  and  Petei-'s  successors  were  acknowledged 
to  be  the  supreme  pastors  of  the  Church  of  God.  Never, 
when  Peter  spoke,  never  did  the  Church  refuse  to  accept  his 
word,  and  to  bow  down  before  his  final  decision.  In  the  very 
first  Council  of  Jerusalem,  grave  questions  that  were  brought 
before  the  Assembly  were  argued  upon  by  various  of  the 
Apostles,  until  Peter  rose  ;  and  the  moment  that  Peter  spoke 
and  said  :  ^^  Let  this  be  done  so ;  let  such  things  be  omitted  j 
such  things  be  enforced  ; " — that  moment  every  man  in  the 
Assembly  held  his  peace,  and  took  the  decision  of  Peter  as 
the  very  echo  of  the  Invisible  Head  of  the  Church,  who  spoke 
in  him,  by  and  through  him.  In  all  the  succeeding  ages,  the 
nations  bowed  down  as  they  received  the  words  of  the  Gospel. 
The  nations  bowed  down  and  accepted  tliat  message  on  the 
authority  and  on  the  testimony  of  the  Pope  of  Il(mie.  Where, 
among  the  nations,  who  have  embraced  the  Cross, — where 
among  the  nations  who  have  upheld  the  Cross, — where  is 
there  one  that  did  not  receive  its  mission  and  its  Gospel  mes- 
sage on  the  message  and  on  the  testimony  of  the  Pope  of 
Rome  ? 

From  the  very  first  ages,  while  they  yet  lay  hid  in  the 
Catacombs,  w^e  read  of  saintly  missionaries  going  forth  from 
under  the  Pope's  hands,  to  spread  the  message  of  Divine 
Tmth  throughout  the  lands.  Scarcely  had  the  Church 
emerged  from  the  Catacombs,  and  burst  into  the  glory  and 
splendor  of  her  renewed  existence,  than  we  find  one  of  the 
early  Popes  of  Rome  laying  his  hand  upon  the  head  of  a  holy 
youth  that  knelt  before  him,  consecrating  that  youth  into  the 
priesthood,  into  the  episcopacy, — and  sending  him  straight 
from  Rome  to  a  mission,  the  grandest  and  most  fruitful — 
the  most  glorious  of  any  in  the  Church.  That  Pope  was 
Celestine,  of  Rome ;  and  the  man  whom  he  sent  was  Patrick, 
who,  by  the  Pope's  order,  wended  his  way  to  Ireland.  From 
the  Pope  of  Rome  did  he  (Patrick)  receive  his  mission  and 
his  message.     From  the  Pope  of  Rome  did  he  receive  his 


THE  POPE'S  TIARA.  257 

autliority  and  liis  jurisdiction.  The  diploma  that  he  bronght 
to  Irehmd  was  attached  to  the  Gospel  itself.  It  was  the 
testimony  of  the  Church  of  Clirist,  countersigned  by  Celestine, 
who  derived  his  authority  from  Peter,  who  derived  his  from 
Christ.  And  when,  in  his  old  age,  he  had  evangelized  the 
whole  island  ;  when  he  had  brought  Ireland  into  the  full  light 
of  the  Christian  faith,  and  into  the  full  blaze  of  her  Christian 
eanctity,  the  aged  Apostle,  now  drooping  into  years,  called 
the  bishops  and  priests  of  Ireland  around  him ;  and,  among 
his  last  words  to  them,  were  these :  "  If  ever  a  difficulty 
arises  among  you ; — if  ever  a  doubt  of  any  passage  of  the 
Scripture,  or  of  any  doctrine  of  the  Church's  law — or  of  any 
thing  touching  the  Chiu-ch  of  God  or  the  salvation  of  the 
souls  of  your  people, — if  ever  any  doubt  arises  among  you, 
go  to  Rome — to  the  mother  of  the  nations — and  Peter  will 
instruct  you  thereon."  Well  and  faithfully  did  the  mind  and 
the  heart  of  Ireland  take  in  the  words  of  its  saintly  Apostle. 
Never — through  good  report  or  evil  report — never  lias  Ireland 
swerved  for  one  instant — never  has  she  tm-ned  to  look  with 
a  favoring  or  a  reverential  eye  npon  this  authority,  or 
upon  that ;  but  straight  to  Peter.  Never  has  she,  for  an 
instant,  lost  her  instinct,  so  as  to  mistake  for  Peter  any  pre- 
tender, or  any  other  Pope.  Never,  for  an  instant,  has  she 
allowed  her  heart  or  her  hand  to  be  snared  from  Peter.  It 
is  a  long  story.  It  is  a  story  of  fourteen  hundred  years.  But 
Ireland  has  preserved  her  faith  through  her  devotion  to  Peter 
and  to  the-  Pope  of  Rome,  Petei^s  successor ;  and  she  has  seen 
every  nation,  during  these  fourteen  hundred  years — every 
nation  that  ever  separated  from  Peter — she  has  seen  them, 
one  and  all,  languish  and  die,  until  the  sap  of  divine  know- 
ledge,— until  the  sap  of  divine  grace — was  dried  up  in  them  j 
and  they  utterly  perished,  because  they  were  separated  from 
the  Rock  of  Ages,  the  Pope  of  Rome. 

Just  as  the  people,  in  all  ages  and  in  all  times, 
bowed  down  before  their  supreme  pastor,  so  also  has 
the  Episcopate  in  the  Church  of  God,  at  all  times, 
recognized  the  supremacy  of  the  Pope  of  Rome,  and 
at  all  times  bowed  before  the  second  crown  that  en- 
circles his  glorious  tiara.  Never  did  the  E})iscopacy  of  the 
Catholic  Church  meet  in  council  except  upon  the  invocation 
of  the  Pope  of  Rome.  Never  did  the}^  promulgate  a  decree 
until  they  first  sent  it  to  the  Pope  of  Rome,  to  ask  him  if  it 


258  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

was  according  to  the  trath,  and  to  get  the  seal  and  the  coun- 
tersign of  his  name  upon  it,  that  it  might  have  the  authority 
of  the  Church  of  God  before  their  people.  From  time  to 
time,  in  the  liistory  of  the  Episcopate,  there  have  been 
rebellious  men  that  rose  up  against  the  authority,  and  dis- 
puted the  power  of  the  Church  of  Rome.  But,  just  as  the 
nations  that  separated  from  Peter  separated  themselves 
thereby  from  the  unity  of  the  truth,  and  of  sanctity  and  of 
Christian  doctrine,  and  of  Christian  morality,  so,  in  like 
manner,  the  Bishop  who,  at  any  time,  in  any  place,  or  in 
any  age,  disputed  Peter^s  power,  Peter's  authority,  and 
separated  from  him,  was  cut  off  from  Peter  and  from  the 
Church ;  the  mitre  fell,  dishonored,  from  his  head ;  and  he 
became  a  useless  member,  lopped  ofl'  from  the  Church  of 
God,  without  power,  without  jurisdiction,  without  the  venera- 
tion, or  the  respect,  or  the  love  of  his  people.  Thus  has  it  ever 
been  in  times  gone  by.  The  Pope  of  Rome  commands  the 
Church  through  the  Episcopate.  The  Pope  of  Rome  speaks 
and  testifies  to  the  Church's  doctrine  through  the  Episcopate. 
Whenever  any  grave,  important  question,  touching  doctrine, 
has  to  be  decided,  the  Pope  of  Rome  has  always  called  the 
Episcopate  about  him  ; — not  that  he  could  not  decide,  but 
that  he  might  surround  his  decision  with  all  that  careful  and 
prudent  examination,  with  all  that  weight  of  universal  author- 
ity over  the  world  which  would  bring  that  decision,  when  he 
pronounced  it,  more  clearl}'-  and  more  directly  home  to  every 
Catholic  mind.  And  faithful  has  that  Episcopate  been, — 
since  the  day  that  eleven  Bishops  met  Peter,  the  Pope, 
in  Jerusalem,  in  the  first  Council, — down  to  the  day  when, 
tlu'ee  years  ago,  eight  hundred  Catholic  Archbishops  and 
Bishops  met  Peter's  successor  in  the  halls  of  the  Vatican,  and 
bowed  down  before  the  word  of  truth  upon  his  lips. 

Such  in  the  past,  as  history  attests,  were  the  two  circles 
of  the  supreme  pastorate  and  supreme  jurisdiction  in  the 
Church. 

The  Roman  empire,  as  you  all  know,  was  utterly  de- 
stroyed by  the  incursions  of  the  barbarians,  in  the  fifth 
century.  A  king,  at  the  head  of  his  ferocious  army,  marched 
on  Rome.  The  Pope  was  applied  to  by  the  terrified  citizens  j 
and  Leo  the  Great  went  forth  to  meet  Attila,  '-the  Scourge 
of  God."  He  found  him  in  the  midst  of  his  rude  barbarian 
warriors,  on  the  banks  of  the  Mincio.     He  found  him  exulting 


THE  POPE'S  TIARA.  259 

in  the  strength  and  power  of  his  irresistible  army.  He 
found  him  surging  and  sweeping  on  towards  Rome,  with  the 
apparent  force  of  inevitable  destiny,  and  with  outspread 
wings  of  destruction.  He  found  him,  in  the  pride  and  in 
the  supreme  passion  of  his  lustful  and  barbaric  heart,  sworn 
to  destroy  the  city  that  was  the  ^'Mother  of  Nations."  And, 
as  he  was  in  the  very  sweep  of  his  conquest  and  pride, — 
uniriended  and  almost  alone, — having  nothing  bat  the 
majesty  of  his  position  and  of  his  glorious  virtue  around  him, 
— the  Pope  said  : — ''  Hold  !  Rome  is  sacred,  and  your  feet 
shall  never  tread  upon  its  ancient  pavement !  Hold  !  Let 
Rome  be  spared  ! "  And,  while  he  was  speaking,  Attila 
looked  upon  the  face  of  the  man ;  and  presentl}^  he  saw  over 
the  head  of  St.  Leo,  the  Pope,  two  angry  figures,  the  Apo- 
stles St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  with  fire  and  the  anger  of  Grod 
beaming  from  their  eyes,  and  with  drawn  swords  menacing 
him.  And,  even  as  the  Angel  stood  in  the  Prophet's  path  of 
old,  and  barred  his  progress,  so  did  Peter  and  Paul  appear  in 
mid-air  and  bar  the  barbarian.  '^Let  us  retm-n,"  said  he, 
"and  let  us  not  apj^roach  this  tenible  and  God-defended 
city  of  Rome  !  "  Attila  fled  to  his  northern  forests ;  and  Leo 
returned,  having  saved  the  existence  and  the  blood  of  ancient 
and  imperial  Rome. 

But  army  followed  army ;  until,  at  length,  Alaric  con- 
quered and  sacked  the  city,  burned  and  destroyed  it,  broke 
up  all  its  splendor  and  all  its  glory,  overran  and  destroyed 
all  the  suiTounding  provinces  ;  and  so  the  destruction  that 
he  began  was  completed  a  few  yeai's  later  by  the  King 
Odoacer,  who  wnped  away  the  last  vestige  of. the  ancient 
Roi-nan  empire.  Then,  my  friends,  all  Italy  was  a  prey  to 
and  was  torn  with  factions ;  covered  with  the  blood  oi  the 
people.  There  was  no  one  to  save  them.  In  vain  did  they 
appeal  to  the  distant  Eastern  Emperor,  at  Constantinople. 
He  laughed  at  their  misery,  and  abandoned  them  in  the 
hour  of  their  deepest  affliction  and  sorrow ;  while  wave  after 
wave  of  barbaric  invasion  swept  over  the  fair  land,  until  life 
became  a  bm'den  too  intolerable  to  bear,  and  the  people 
cried  out,  from  their  breaking  hearts,  for  the  Pope  of  Rome 
to  take  them  under  his  protection,  to  let  them  declare  him 
King,  and  so  obtain  his  safeguard  and  his  protection  for  their 
lives  and  their  property.  For  .many  long  ^^ears  the  Pope 
resisted   the    preferred   crown.      It   grew   upon    his   brows 


260  FATHER  BUEEE'S  DISCOURSES. 

insensibly.  It  came  to  liim  in  spite  of  liimself.  We  know 
that,  3^ear  after  year,  each  successive  Po}3e  was  employed 
sending  letters,  sending  messengers  to  supplicate,  -to  implore 
the  Christian  Emperor  to  send  an  army  for  the  protection  of 
Italy  5  and  when  he  did  send  his  army,  they  were  worse,  in 
their  heretical  lawlessness,  more  tyrannical,  more  bloodthirsty 
over  the  unfortunate  people  of  Italy,  than  even  the  savage 
hordes  that  came  down  from  the  north  of  Europe.  And  so  it 
came  to  pass  that,  in  the  dire  distress  of  the  people,  the  Pope 
was  obliged  to  accept  the  temporal  power  of  Rome,  and  of  some 
of  the  adjoining  pro^dnces.  History  tells  us  that  he  might, 
in  that  day,  have  obtained,  if  he  wished  it,  the  sovereignty 
over  all  Italy.  They  would  have  been  only  too  happy  to 
accept  him  as  their  King.  But  no  lust  of  power,  no  ambition 
of  empire  guided  him ;  and  the  great  St.  Gregory  tells  us, 
that  he  was  oppressed  with  the  cares  of  the  temporal  domin- 
ion, and  that  it  was  forced  upon  him  against  his  wnll. 

However,  now  the  crown  is  upon  his  head.  Now  he  is 
acknowledged  a  monarch — a  reigning  king  among  monarchs. 
And  now  let  us  see  what  was  the  purpose  of  God  in  thus 
establishing  that  temporal  power  in  so  early  a  portion  of  the 
history  of  the  world's  civilization.  At  that  time  there  was  no 
law  in  Europe.  The  nations  had  not  yet  settled  down  or 
formed.  Every  man  did  as  he  would.  The  kings  were  only 
half-civilized,  barbarous  men,  recently  converted  to  Christi- 
anity, wielding  enormous  power,  and  only  too  anxious  to  make 
that  power  the  instrument  for  gratif3dng  every  most  terrible 
passion  of  lust,  of  jDride,  of  ambition,  and  of  revenge.  Chief- 
tains, taking  to  themselves  the  titles  of  Baron,  Duke,  Mar- 
grave, and  so  on,  gathered  around  them  troops,  bands  of  mer- 
cenaries, and  preyed  on  the  poor  people,  until  they  covered 
the  whole  Continent  with  confusion  and  with  blood.  There 
was  no  power  to  restrain  them.  There  was  no  power  to  make 
them  spare  their  people.  There  was  no  voice  to  assert  the 
cause  of  the  poor  and  the  oppressed,  save  one  5  and  that  was 
the  voice  of  the  monarch  who  M'as  crowned  in  Home, 
the  ancient  and  powerful  head  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
Whence  came  his  influence  or  his  power  over  them  ?  Ah,  it 
came  from  this :  that,  with  all  their  crimes,  they  still  had  re- 
ceived from  God  the  gift  of  faith  ;  and  they  knew — the  very 
\vorst  among  them  knew — as  history  tells  us,  that,  when  the 
Pope  spoke  it  was  the  echo  of  the  voice  of  God.     They 


THE  POPE'S  TIAEA,  261 

acknowledged  it  as  a  supreme  power  over  tlieir  consciences, 
over  their  actions, — as  a  power  that  could  be  uiekled  not  only 
for  their  salvation,  but  even  for  tlieu'  destruction,  by  the  ten'ible 
sentence  of  excommunication,  by  which  the  Pope  could  cut 
them  oft"  from  the  Choi'ch.  The  faitli  that  was  in  the  hearts 
of  these  rude  kings  was  also  disseminated  among  their  peo- 
ple ;  and  so  strong  was  it,  tliat  tiie  moment  the  Pope 
denounced  or  excommunicated  any  monarch,  that  moment, 
no  matter  how  great  he  was,  as  a  warrior,  as  a  statesman,  as 
a  writer, — that  moment  the  people  shrank  from  him  as  they 
would  from  the  pest-stricken  leper,  and  his  voice  was  no 
longer  heard  as  an  authority,  either  on  the  battle-field  or  in 
the  council  chamber.  Knowing  this,  the  kings  were  afraid 
of  the  Pope.  Knowing  this,  the  people  looked  up  to  the 
Pope  :  and  if  any  king  overtaxed  his  people  and  ground 
them  to  the  earth,  or  if  any  king  violated  the  law  of  eternal 
justice  by  shedding  the  blood  of  any  man  without  just  cause, 
or  if  any  king  declared  an  unjust  and  unnecessary  war,  or  if 
any  king  repudiated  his  lawful  wife,  and,  in  the  strength 
and  power  of  his  passion,  sought  to  scandalize  his  subjects, 
and  to  openly  insult  and  outrage  the  law  of  God, — the 
people,  the  soldiery,  society,  the  abandoned  and  injured 
woman,  all  alike,  looked  up  to  and  appealed  to  the  Pope  of 
Rome  as  the  only  power  that  could  sway  the  world,  and 
strike  terror  into  the  heart  of  the  greatest,  the  most  powerful, 
and  the  most  lawless  king  upon  the  earth. 

History — from  every  source  from  which  we  can  draw  it — 
tells  us  what  manner  of  men  were  the  kings  and  dukes  and 
rulers  the  Pope  had  to  deal  with.  What  manner  of  men 
were  they  ?  In  the  eleventh  century,  the  Emperor  Otho 
invited  all  his  nobility  to  a  grand  banquet ;  and  while  they 
were  in  the  midst  of  their  festivity,  in  came  one  of  the  king's 
officers  with  a  long  list  of  the  names  of  men  who  were  there 
present  j  and  every  man  whose  name  was  called  out  had  to 
rise  from  the  banquet,  and  walk  into  a  room  adjoining,  and 
there  submit  to  an  unjust,  a  cruel,  and  an  instantaneous 
death.  These  were  the  kind  of  men  the  Pope  had  to  deal 
with.  Another  man  that  we  read  of  was  Lothair.  His 
lustful  eye  fell  upon  a  beautiful  woman  ;  and  he  instantly 
puts  away  and  repudiates  his  virtuous  and  honored  wile,  and 
he  takes  to  him  this  concubine,  in  the  face  of  the  world,  pro- 
claiuiing,  or  suggesting  that  he  could  proclaim,  that,  because 


262  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

he  was  an  emperor,  or  a  king,  he  was  at  liberty  to  violate 
the  law  of  God,  outrage  the  propi-ieties  of  society,  scandalize 
his  subjects,  and  take  liberties  with  tlieir  honor  and  with 
their  integrity,  Avhich  would  not  be  permitted  to  any  other 
man.     How  did  the  Pope,  in  these  instances,  deal  with  such 
men?     How  did  he  use  the  temporal  power,  so  great  and  so 
tremendous,  with  which  God  and  society  had  invested  him  ? 
He  made  the  murderers  do  public  penance,  and  mal>e  resti- 
tution to  the  families  of  those  whose  blood  they  had  shed. 
He  called  to  him  that  Emperor  Lothair ;    he  brought  him 
before  him ;   he  made  him,  in  a  pul)lic  church,   and  before 
all  the  people,  repudiate  that  woman  whom  he  had  taken   to 
his  adulterous  embrace  5   take  back  his  lawful  empress  and 
queen,  pledge  to  her  again,  by  solemn  oath,  before  all  the 
people,  that  he  never  would  love  another,  and  that  he  would 
be  faitMul  to  her  as  a  husband  and  a  man,  until  the  hour  of  his 
death.      Lothair  broke  his  oath, — his  oath  taken    at  that 
solemn  moment,  when  the  Pope,  with  the  ciborium  in  his  hand, 
held  up  the  body  of  the  Lord,  and  said  :   ''  Until  you  swear 
fidelity  to  your  lawful  wife,  I  will  not  place  the  Holy  Commu- 
nion upon  your  lips."     He  took  that  oath  ;  he  broke  it ;   and 
that  day  month — one- month  after  he  had  received  that  Com- 
munion— ^he  was  a  dead  man;  and  the  whole  world— the  whole 
Christian  world, — recognized  in  that  death  the  vengeance  of 
God  falling  upon  a  perjured  and  an  excommunicated  sinner. 
How  did  the  Pope  vindicate  by  his  temporal  power  and 
authority  the  influence  that  it  gave  him  among  the  kings 
and  the  nations  %     How  did  he  operate  upon  society  ?     When 
King  Philip  of  France  wished  to  repudiate  his  lawful  wife 
andlake  another  in   her  stead,  the  Pope  excommunicated 
him,  and  obliged  him,  in  the  face  of  the  world,  to  take  back, 
and  to  honor  with  his  love  and  with  his  fidelity  the  woman 
whom  he  had    sworn  before  the  altar  to  worship   and  to 
protect  as  long  as  she  lived. 

How  did  the  Pope  exercise  his  temporal  power  when 
Spain  and  Portugal,  both  in  the  zenith  of  their  glory,  were 
about  to  draw  the  sword,  and  to  deluge  those  fair  lands  with 
the  blood  of  the  people  ?  The  Pope  stepped  in  _  and  said, 
"  No  war  ! — there  is  no  necessity  for  war  ; — there  is  no  justi- 
fication for  war ;  and  if  vou  shed  the  blood  of  your  people," 
he  said  to  both  kings,  ""l  will  cut  you  both  off,  and  flhig 
you,  excommunicated,  out  of  the  Church." 


THE  POPE'S  TIAEA.  263 

Tims  did  he  preserve  the  rights — the  sacred  rights  of 
man-iage ;  thus  did  he  presei-ve  the  honor,  the  integrity,  the 
position  of  the  Christian  woman, — the  Christian  mother,  who 
is  the  source,  the  fountain-head  of  all  this  world's 
society,  and  the  one  centre  of  all  our  hopes.  Thus  did 
he  save  the  people,  and  curb  the  angry  passions  of  their 
sovereigns.  Thus  did  he  tell  the  king :  "  So  long  as  you 
rule  justly,  so  long  as  you  respect  the  rights  of  \he 
humblest  of  your  subjects,  I  will  uphold  you ;  I  will  set 
a  crown  upon  your  head,  and  I  will  fling  around  you  all 
the  authority,  and  all  the  jurisdiction  and  sacredness  of  your 
monarchy.  I  will  preach  to  yom'  people  obedience,  loyalty, 
bravery,  and  love ;  but,  if  you  trample  upon  that  people's 
rights,  if  you  abuse  your  power  to  scandalize  them,  to  injure 
them  in  their  integrity,  in  then:  conscience, — I  will  be  the 
first  to  take  the  crown  from  your  head,  and  to  declare  to  the 
world  that  you  are  unworthy  to  wear  it.''  Modern  historians 
say :  "  Oh,  we  admit  all  this :  but  what  riofht  had  the  Pope 
to*  do  it  ?  What  right  had  he  to  do  iti "  What  right  ? 
The  best  of  right.  Who,  on  this  earth,  had  a  right  to  do  it, 
if  not  the  man  who  represented '  Christ,  the  Originator  and 
Saviour  of  the  world  ?  What  right  had  he  to  do  it  ?  He 
had  the  right  that  even  society  itself  and  the  people  gave 
him  ;  for  they  cried  out  to  him  :  "  Save  us  from  our  kings  j 
save  us  from  injustice;  save  us  from  dishonor,  and  we  will 
be  loyal  and  true  as  long  as  our  leaders  and  om-  monarchs 
are  worthy  of  our  loyalty  and  om*  truth." 

Such,  in  the  past  history  of  the  world,  was  the  thkd  cuxle, 
that  twines  round  the  Papal  Crown. 

Now,  passing  fi'om  the  past  to  the  tiara  of  to-day,  what  do 
we  find  I  We  find  a  man  in  Rome,  the  most  extraordinary, 
in  some  things,  of  all  those  that  ever  succeeded  to  the  supre- 
macy of  the  Church,  and  in  the  ofiice  of  St.  Peter ; — most 
extraordinary,  particularly  in  his  misfortunes  ; — most  extraor- 
dinary in  the  length  of  his  reign ;  for  he  is  the  only  Pope 
that  has  outlived  ^^the  years  of  Peter;" — most  extraordinary 
in  the  ingratitude  of  the  world  towards  him,  and  the  patience 
with  which  he  has  borne  it; — most  extraordinary  in  the 
heroic  firmness  of  his  character,  and  in  the  singleness  of  his 
devotion  to  his  God  and  to  the  spouse  of  God,  the  Church  ; — 
Pius  IX,  the  glorious  Pontifl',  the  man  whom  the  bitterest 
enemies  of  the  Church,  the  most  foul-mouthed  infidels  of  the 


264  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

day,  are  obliged  to  acknowledge  as  a  faithful  and  true  servant 
of  the  Lord,  his  God,  a  faithful  ruler  of  the  Church,  and  a 
man  from  whose  aged  countenance  there  beams  forth  upon 
all  who  see  him,  the  sweetness,  the  purity  of  Christ.  I  have 
seen  him  in  the- halls  of  the  Vatican;  I  have  seen  the  most 
prejudiced  Protestant  ladies  and  gentlemen  walk  into  that 
audience  chamber;  I  have  seen  them  come  forth,  their  eyes 
streaming  with  tears  ;  I  have  seen  them  come  forth  entranced 
with  admiration  at  the  vision  of  sanctity  and  venerableness 
that  they  have  beheld  in  the  head  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
He  is  extraordinar}'-  in  that  he  has  outlived  "the  years  of 
Peter."  Well  do  I  remember,  as  he  stood  upon  the  altar,  five 
and  twenty  years  ago,  fair  and  beautiful  in  his  youthful  man- 
hood. Well  do  I  remember  the  heroic  voice  that  pealed  like  a 
clarion  over  the  mighty  square  of  St.  Peter's,  and  seemed  as 
if  it  was  an  Angel  of  God  that  was  come  down  from  Heaven, 
and,  in  a  voice  of  melodious  thunder,  was  flinging  a  pente- 
cost  of  grace  and  blessing  over  the  people.  Five  and  twenty 
years  have  passed  away,  and  more.  Never  during  the  long 
roll  of  Pontiffs — never  did  man  sit  upon  St.  Petei-'s  chair  so 
long ;  so  that  it  even  passed  into  a  proverb,  that  no  Pope 
was  ever  to  see  the  years  of  Peter.  That  proverb  is  falsified 
m  Pius.  He  has  passed  the  mystic  Rubicon  of  the  Papal 
age.  He  has  passed  the  bounds  which  closed  around  all 
his  predecessors.  He  has  passed  the  years  of  Peter  upon  the 
Papal  throne,  Oh  !  may  he  live,  if  it  be  God's  will,  to  guide 
the  Church,  until  he  has  doubled  the  years  of  Peter.  He 
is  singular  in  what  the  w^orld  calls  his  misfortunes,  but 
what,  to  me,  or  to  any  man  of  faith,  must  absolutely  appear 
as  a  startling  resemblance  to  the  last  week  that  the  Lord, 
our  Saviour,  spent  before  His  passion  in  Jenisalem. 

I  remember  Pius  IX,  surrounded  by  the  acclamations 
and  the  admu'ation  of  the  whole  world.  No  word  of  praise 
was  too  great  to  be  bestowed  upon  hira.  He  was  the  theme 
of  every  popular  ^\Titer.  He  was  the  idol  of  the  people. 
The  moment  they  beheld  hira,  the  cry  came  forth : — ''  VivOy 
viva,  il  salvaiore  de  la  paitia  I "  Long  live  the  saviour  of 
his  people  and  of  his  country!  To-day  he  must  not  show 
his  face  in  the  very  streets  of  Rome ;  and  in  the  very  halls 
of  the  deserted  Vatican  he  hears  the  echoes  of  the  shouts  of 
those  that  cry :  "  Blessed  be  the  hand  that  shall  be 
imbrued  in  thy  blood,  O  Pius  I"     Now,  I  ask  any  man  on 


THE  POPE'S  TIARA.  265 

the  face  of  the  eartli,  what  has  this  man  done  ?  What  can 
the  greatest  enemy  of  the  Pope  lay  his  hand  upon,  and  say 
he  has  done  so  and  so,  and  he  has  deserved  this  change  of 
popular  friendship  and  of  popular  opinion?  The  greatest 
enemy  that  the  Pope  has  on  this  earth  is  not  able  to  bring  a 
sinji'le  charo-e  asrainst  him,  durino*  these  twentv-five  years,  to 
account  for  that  change  of  opinion.  What  has  changed 
blessings  into  curses  ?  What  has  changed  homage  and  vener- 
ation into  contempt  and  obloquy  ?  There  is  no  accounting  for 
it.  It  is  like  the  change  that  came  over  the  people  of  Jeru- 
salem, who,  on  Palm  Sunday,  cried  "  Hosanna  to  the  Son 
of  David,''  and  on  Good-Friday  morning  cried,  '^  Give  Him 
to  us !  We  will  tear  Him  to  pieces  and  crucify  Him  ! " 
There  is  no  accounting  for  it.  Has  he  oppressed  the  Roman 
people?  No.  I  lived  many  years  in  Rome,  under  his 
Pontificate.  There  was  no  taxation  worth  speaking  of; 
there  was  no  want,  no  misery.  There  was  plenty  of  educa- 
tion for  the  children,  plenty  of  employment,  plenty  of 
diversion.  There  was  no  forcible  conscription  of  the  youth, 
to  send  them  into  some  vile  cesspool  of  corruption,  in  the 
shape  of  a  barrack,  or  to  hunt  them  out  to  the  battle-field,  to 
be  mown  down  and  flung  into  bloodstained  graves.  No ; 
every  man  possessed  his  house  and  his  soul  in  peace.  There 
w-as  prosperity  in  the  land.  And  over  all  this  there  was  the 
hand  ever  w^aving  a  blessing,  and  a  voice  invoking  benedic- 
tion and  grace  for  his  people.  Whence  came  the  change  ? 
No  man  can  tell.  Therefore,  I  say,  this  man  is  extraordinary 
in  his  misfortunes,  inasmuch  as  they  bring  out,  in  the  most 
striking  and  terrilde  manner,  his  resemblance  to  his  crucified 
Lord  and  Saviour,  the  Head  of  the  Church.  He  is  singular 
in  the  magnificence  of  his  character.  The  student  of 
history  may  read  the  lives  of  all  the  Popes  that  come 
down  from  Peter  to  Pius,  and  I  make  this  assertion,  that 
there  is  not  a  single  feature  of  grandeur  or  magnificence  in 
the  character  of  any  one  of  these  Popes  that  does  not  shine 
out,  concentrated,  in  the  character  of  Pius  IX.  We  admire  the 
missionary  zeal  of  St.  Gregory  the  Great,  or  of  St.  Celestine. 
Pius  the  Ninth  has  sent  from  under  his  own  hand,  and  from 
under  his  own  blessing,  men  who  have  honored  his  Pontifi- 
cate, as  well  as  the  Church,  their  mother,  by  shedding  their 
blood  in  martyrdom,  for  the  faith.  From  under  his  hand 
have  gone  forth  those  holy  ones  who  have  languished  in  the 

12 


266  FA  THEB  B  UEKE'S  DISCO  UESES. 

dungeons  of  China  and  of  Japan.  From  under  his  hand 
have  gone  forth  those  heroic  Jesuit  sons  of  St.  Ignatius,  that 
have  lifted  the  standard  of  the  Cross,  and  uplifted  the  name — 
the  name  which  forms  their  crown  and  their  glory,  even  in 
the  eyes  of  men, — unto  the  farthest  nations  of  the  earth.  If 
we  admire  the  love  of  Rome  that  shines  forth  in  the  cliaracter 
of  St.  Leo  the  Great,  who  w^as  the  Pope  among  them  all  that 
ever  loved  Korae  and  the  Romans  so  tenderly  as  the  heart  of 
Pius  IX  loved  them  ?  When  he  came  to  the  throne  there 
were  Romans  in  exile,  and  there  were  Romans  in  prison. 
The  very  first  act  of  the  Pontiff  was  to  fling  open  the  prison 
doors,  and  to  say  to  these  children  of  misfortune :  '^  Come 
forth,  Italians ;  breathe  the  pure  au*  and  feast  your  eyes  upon 
the  loveliness  of  your  native  land."  There  were  Romans 
who  were  in  exile  :  he  sent  them  the  message  of  manumission, 
and  of  pardon,  and  of  love,  in  w^hatever  land  they  were,  and 
said  :  "  Come  back  to  me ; — come  back  and  sit  down  in  peace 
and  in  contentment  under  my  empire ;  for,  0  Rome  and  chil- 
dren of  Rome,  I  love  you."  This  was  the  language  and  these 
WTre  the  emphatic  accents  of  the  glorious  Pius  IX.  Where 
was  the  Pope  who  ever  embellished  Rome  as  he  did  1  I  lived 
in  Rome  during  the  first  year  of  his  Pontificate  :  I  lived  there 
in  the  last.  I  might  almost  say  that  he  found  it  a  city  of 
brick,  and  that  he  handed  it  over  to  Victor  Emmanuel,  the 
robber,  a  city  of  polished  and  shining  marble.  Orphan- 
ages, hospitals,  public  schools,  model  lodging-houses,  public 
baths  and  lavatories,  splendid  fountains, — every  thing  that  the 
Roman  citizen  could  require,  either  for  his  wants  or  for  his 
luxury,  or,  if  you  will,  his  pleasure, — the  magnificent  hand 
of  Pius  IX  provided.  For,  for  the  last  five-and-twenty  years, 
that  hand  has  never  ceased  in  beautifying  and  embellishing 
his  loved  and  imperial  Rome. 

We  admire  the  glorious  firmness,  the  magnificent,  rock- 
like endurance  of  St.  Gregory  VII,  whom  history  knows 
by  the  name  of  Hildebrand  j  how  he  stood  in  the  path  of  the 
impious  German  Emperors.  Like  a  rock  against  which  the 
tide  dashes,  but  dashes  in  vain, — so  did  he  stand  to  stem  the 
torrent  of  their  tyranny  and  of  their  comiption.  We  admire 
Gregory  VII,  w-hen,  saying  Mass  before  the  Emperor,  he 
took  the  blessed  Eucharist  into  his  hands,  and  turned  round 
with  the  Holy  Communion  and  said  :  "  Oh  !  majesty,  I  am 
about  to  give  you  the  Holy  Body  of  Jesus  Christ.      I  swear 


THE  POPE'S  TIARA.  267 

before  my  Gorl,"  said  the  Pope,  "in  whose  presence  I  now 
btand,  that  I  have  never  acted  save  for  the  Church  wliich  He 
loves,  and  for  the  happiness  of  His  people.  Now,  0  King, 
swear  thou  the  same ;  and  I  will  put  God  upon  thy  lips  ! " 
The  Emperor  hung  his  head  and  said:  "I  cannot  swear  it, 
for  it  would  not  be  true;"  and  the  Holy  Communion  was 
denied  him. 

We  admire  that  magnificent  memory  in  the  Church  of  God 
which  upheld  the  rights  of  Peter  and  of  the  Church  against 
king  and  kaiser ;  but,  I  ask  j^ou,  does  not  the  image  of  the 
sainted  Gregory  VII  rise  before  our  eyes  from  out  the  re- 
cesses of  history,  and  come  forth  into  the  full  blaze  of  the 
present  generation,  in  the  magnificent  constancy  and  firmness 
of  Pius  IX,  the  Pope  of  Rome?  It  was  a  question  of  only 
giving  up  a  little  child  that  was  baptized  into  the  Christian 
Church,  and  engrafted,  by  Baptism,  upon  Christ,  our  Lord — a 
little  child  that  was  engrafted  unto  the  Son  of  God  and  His 
Church — had  received  the  rites,  and  claimed,  injustice,  to  come 
to  know  and  love  that  God  on  whom  he  had  iDeen  engrafted 
by  Baptism.  All  the  powers  of  the  world, — all  the  dukes 
and  kings  and  governments  in  Europe, — came  around  the 
Pope  and  said :  "  You  must  give  up  that  child ;  he  must  be 
taught  to  blaspheme  and  to  hate  that  Lord  upon  whom  he 
has  been  engrafted  by  Baptism.  He  must  not  belong  to 
Christ  or  the  Church,  even  though  he  is  baptized  into  it.'' 
And  they  asked  the  Pope,  by  the  surrender  of  that  child,  to 
proclaim  the  surrender  of  that  portion  of  the  Church's  faith 
that  tells  us,  on  the  authorit\^  of  the  inspired  Apostle,  that 
by  Baptism,  like  a  wild  olive  branch  let  into  a  good  tree,  we 
are  let  into  Jesus  Christ.  They  sent  their  fleets  to  Civita 
Vecchia ;  they  pointed  th^ir  cannon  against  the  Vatican ; 
and  told  the  Pope  that  his  existence  and  his  life  depended 
upon  his  giving  up  that  child.  And  he  declared,  in  the 
face  of  the  world,  and  pronounced  that  word  which  will  shine 
in  characters  of  glory  on  his  brow  in  Heaven, — he  pro- 
nounced the  immortal  non  possumus, — "  I  will  not  do  it,  be- 
cause I  cannot  do  it."  If  he  wants  an  epitaph,  the  most 
glorious  language  that  need  be  written  on  his  tomb  would 
be :  "  Here  lies  the  man  whom  the  whole  world  tried  to  co- 
erce to  commit  a  sin ;  and  who  answered  the  whole  world 
^  non  possumuSj — I  cannot  do  it."  This  is  the  man  that  to- 
day wears,  and  so  gloiiously  wears,  the  time-honored  tiara 


268  FATHER  BUB  RE'S  DISCOURSES. 

that  has  come  down  to  bim  throngli  eighteen  hundred  years 
of  suffering  and  of  glory,  of  joy  and  of  soitow. 

The  third  circlet, — that  of  the  temporal  power, — for  a 
time  is  gone.  There  is  a  rohber,  who  calls  himself  a  king, 
seated  now  in  the  Quirinal,  in  Rome.  He  had  not  the  de- 
cency to  tell  the  Pope  that  was  he  was  coming  to  plunder 
him.  He  had  not  the  decency,  when  he  did  come  to  Rome, 
to  build  a  house  for  himself ;  but  he  must  take  one  of  the 
old  man's  houses.  It  was  a  question  of  bringing  his  women 
into  these,  the  Pope's  own  chambers,  which  were  always  like 
sanctuaries,  where  ladies  generally  are  not  peimitted  to  come 
in.  There  was  a  kind  of  tradition  of  holiness  about  them 
and  exclusiveness,  in  this  way;  and  he  brings  his  Queen 
and  his  "  ladies  all"  to  these  chambers,  where,  if  they  had' 
a  particle  of  womanl}'-  decency,  and  delicacy,  and  propriety, 
they  would  not  enter.  I  do  not  believe  there  is  a  lady  here 
listening  to  me,  who  would  walk  into  the  Quirinal,  to-mor- 
row, even  if  she  was  in  Rome.  The  third  circlet,  for  a  time, 
is  plucked  from  the  Pope's  brow ;  and,  instead  of  a  crown 
of  gold,  the  aged  man  has  bent  down  and  has  received  from 
the  hands  of  ungrateful  Italy  the  present  of  a  crowm  of  thorns. 
But,  as  if  to  compensate  him  for  the  temporary  absence  of 
the  crown  of  temporal  rule ;  as  if  to  make  up  to  him  for  that 
which  has  been  plucked,  for  a  time  only,  from  the  tiai'a,  the 
Almighty  God  has  brought  out,  in  our  age,  upon  the  pontifi- 
cate of  Pius  IX,  the  other  two  circlets,  that  of  supreme  Pas- 
torate and  supreme  Bishop  of  the  Church,  with  an  additional 
lustre  and  glory  that  they  never  had  before.  Never  in  the 
history  of  the  Catholic  Church,  have  the  faithful,  all  the 
world  over,  listened  with  so  much  reverence,  with  so  much 
love,  wdth  so  much  faith  and  joy,  as  the  Catholics  of  the 
world,  to-day,  listen  to  the  voice  of  Pius  IX  in  Rome. 
Never  have  the  Bishops  of  the  Catholic  Church  shown  such 
unanimity,  such  unity  of  thought,  such  profound  and  mag- 
nificent obedience.  Never  has  the  Episcopate  of  the  Cath- 
olic Chm'ch  so  loudly,  emphatically,  and  unitedly  upheld  the 
privileges  and  the  glories  of  its  head,  as  the  Episcopacy  of 
this  day  has  upheld  the  glory  of  the  Papacy  of  Pius  IX. 
And  it  i&  no  small  subject  of  praise  and  of  thankfulness  to  us, 
that,  when  eight  hundred  men  among  them,  loaded  with  the 
responsibility  of  the  Church, — eight  hundred  men  represent- 
ing all  that  the  Church  had,  of  perfection,  of  the  priesthood. 


THE  POPE'S  TIARA.  269 

and  of  jurisdiction  and  power, — when  these  eight  hundred 
men  were  gathered  around  the  throne  of  the  august  Pontiff, 
they  presented  to  the  world  in  its  hostility,  in  its  infidelity,  in 
its  hati-ed,  so  firm  a  front,  that  they  were  all  of  one  mind,  of 
one  soul.  One  voice  only  was  heard  from  the  lips  of  these 
eight  hundred  ;  and  that  voice  said :  "  Tu  es  Petrits  !  O 
Pins,  Peter  speaks  in  thee ;  and  Christ,  the  Lord,  speaks  in 
Peter."  One  of  the  most  honored  of  these  eight  hundred, — 
one  of  the  foremost  in  dignity  and  in  worth, — now  sits  here  in 
the  uiidst  of  you,  the  Bishop  and  pastor  of  your  souls.  He  can 
bear  living  witness  to  the  fact  which  I  have  stated.  Out  o^ 
the  resources  of  his  learned  mind, — out  of  his  Roman  experi- 
ence, as  an  Archbishop, — will  he  tell  you, — out  of  his  historic 
lore  will  he  tell  you, — that  never  was  the  Church  of  God 
more  united,  both  in  the  priesthood  and  episcopacy,  and  in 
the  people, — more  united  in  ranks  cemented  by  faith  and 
strengthened  by  love,  than  the  Christian  and  Catholic  world 
to-dav  is,  around  the  glorious  thi'one  of  the  uncrowned  Pon- 
tiff, Pius  IX. 

And  what  shall  be  the  future  of  the  Pope's  tiara?  We  know 
that  the  crown  of  universal  pastorship  and  the  crown  of 
supremacy  are  his  ;  that  no  man  can  take  from  him  that  which 
has  grown  unto  him  under  the  hand  of  Jesus  Christ.  We 
know  that  he  may  be  in  exile  to-morrow,  that  he  may  be 
without  a  home,  persecuted  and  hunted  from  one  city  to 
another.  But  we  know  that  God  and  the  Church  of  God 
have  set  their  seal  upon  him,  and  their  sign  that  no  other 
man  upon  this  earth  can  wear,  namely,  that  he  is  the  head  of 
the  Church,  and  the  infallible  guide  of  the  infallible  flock  of 
Christ.  Will  his  temporal  power  be  restored  'I  Will  the  third 
circle  ever  again  shine  upon  that  tiara?  It  is  a  singular 
fact  that  the  only  man  who  can  spciik  of  the  future  with 
certainty  is  the  Catholic.  Every  other  man,  when  he  comes 
to  discuss  any  subject  of  the  future,  nmst  say  :  ^' Well,  in  all 
probability,  perhaps,  it  may  come  to  pass;  it  may  be  so  and 
so."  But  the  Catholic  man,  when  he  comes  to  speak  of  the 
future,  says,  "  Such  and  such  things  are  to  come : "  he 
knows  it  as  sure  as  fate.  There  is  not  a  man  among  us  that 
does  not  know  that  this  usurpation  of  Rome  is  only  a  question 
of  a  few  days; — that  the  knavish  king  may  remain  this  year, 
next  year;  perhaps  a  few  years  more ;  but,  as  sure  as  Ivome 
is  seated  upon  her  seven  hills,  so  surely  will  the  third  circle 


270  FATHER  BUIiKE'S  DISCOUFiSES. 

of  tlie  tiara  be  there ;  so  surely  must  there  be  a  Pope-King 
there.  And  \vhy  ?  For  the  simplest  of  all  reasons  :  that  her 
empire,  or  her  temporal  power  is  very  convenient,  and  very 
useful,  and  very  necessary  for  the  Church  of  God  ;  and  that 
whatever  is  convenient,  or  useful  or  necessary  for  her,  God  in 
Heaven  will  provide  for  her.  That  temporal  power  will 
return  as  it  returned  in  the  times  of  old,  because  it  is  good 
for  the  Church,  and  because  the  w^orld  cannot  get  on  without 
it.  The  hand  that  has  held  the  reins  of  society  for  a  thou- 
sand years  and  more, — the  hand  that  has  held  the  curb  tight 
upon 'the  passions,  and  the  ambition,  and  the  injustice  of 
'kings  ', — the  hand  that  has  held  with  a  fiim  grasp  the  reins 
that  govern  the  people,  is  as  necessary  in  the  time  to  come, 
as  it  was  in  the  times  past :  and,  therefore,  God  will  keep 
that  hand,  that  holds  the  reins  of  the  world,  a  royal  hand. 
Hence  it  is  that  we,  Catholics,  have  not  the  slightest 
apprehension,  the  slightest  fear,  about  this.  We  know  that, 
even  as  our  Divine  Lord  and  Master  suffered  in  Jerusalem, 
and  was  bm'ied  and  remained  for  three  days  in  the  grave, 
and  undeniably  rose  again,  all  the  more  glorious  because  of 
His  previous  suflerings, — so,  in  like  manner,  do  we  know 
that,  out  of  the  grave  of  his  present  tribulation, — out  of  the 
trials  of  to-day, — Pius  IX,  or  Pius  the  Ninth's  successor, — 
for  the  Pope  lives  for  ever, — will  rise  more  glorious  in  his 
empire  over  the  world,  and  in  his  influence  and  power, — all 
the  more  glorious  for  having  passed  through  the  tribulations 
of  the  present  time.  But,  my  friends,  just  as  the  most  precious 
hours  in  the  life  of  our  Lord  were  the  hours  of  His  suffering, 
— just  as  that  w^as  the  particular  time  when  every  loving 
heart  came  to  Him, — the  time  when  the  highest  privileges 
were  conferred  upon  mankind,  namely,  to  wipe  the  sweat  and 
blood  off  his  brow ;  to  take  the  Cross  off  His  shoulders ;  to 
lift  Him  from  His  falling  and  His  faintness  upon  the  earth  j 
so,  also,  the  present  is  the  hour  of  our  highest  privilege  as 
Catholics,  when  we  can  put  out  our  hand  to  cheer,  to  console, 
to  help  our  Holy  Father  the  Pope.  This  hall  is  crowded  j 
and,  from  my  priestly,  Catholic,  and  Irish  heart,  I  am  proud 
of  it.  It  is  easy  to  acclaim  a  man  when  he  is  ^'  on  the  top 
of  the  wheel,"  as  they  say,  and  every  thing  is  going  well 
with  him.  It  is  easy  to  i'eel  proud  of  the  Pope  when  the 
Pope  shines  out,  acknowledged  by  all  the  kings  of  the 
eai-th.     Ah,  but  it  is  the  triumph  of  Catholic  and  of  Irish 


THE  POPE'S  TIABA.  271 

faith  to  stand  up  for  him,  to  uphold  him  before  the  world, 
and,  if  necessary  to  fight  for  him  when  the  whole  world  is 
against  him  !  Therefore  I  hope,  that  when  the  proceeds  of 
this  lecture  are  sent  to  the  man,  who,  although  poor,  and  in 
prison  to-day,  has  kept  his  honor,  has  kept  his  nobility  of 
character  j  and  when  millions  were  put  before  him  by  the 
robber-king,  said  he  would  not  dirty  his  hands  by  touching 
them  ; — but  when  the  honest  and  the  clean  money  of  to-night 
shall  be  sent  to  him,  I  hope  that  some  one  of  those  officials 
here  will  also  inform  him  that  that  money  was  sent  to  him 
with  cheers  and  with  applause,  and  from  loving  and  generou? 
Irish  Catholic  hearts  j  that  it  was  given,  as  Ireland  always 
has  given  when  she  gave, — given  with  a  free  hand  and 
a  lo\ang  and  a  generous  heart.  As  a  great  author  and  writer 
of  our  day  said :  ^'  I  would  rather  get  a  cold  potato  fi-om  an 
Irishman,  than  a  guinea  in  gold  and  a  dinner  of  beef  from 
an  Englishman." 

And,  now,  my  friends,  I  have  only  to  state  to  you  that, 
from  my  heart,  I  thank  you  for  your  presence  here  this  even- 
ing. I  know  that  the  sacredness  of  the  cause  brought  you 
here  as  Catholics.  I  flatter  myself  a  little,  that,  perhaps, 
some  of  3^ou  came,  because,  when  I  was  last  here  before  you, 
I  told  you,  in  all  sincerity,  that  my  heart  ^nd  soul  were  in 
this  lecture,  and  that  I  would  take  it  as  a  personal  favor  if 
the  hall  were  crowded  this  evening.  The  hall  is  crowded ; 
and  I  am  gTateful  to  you  for  your  attendance,  and  your 
patience  in  listening  to  me,  and  for  the  encouragement  that 
you  gave  me  by  your  applause. 


THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION. 

\_A  Lecture  delivered  hy  Very  Rev.  T.  N.  Burhe,  O.P.,  in  St.  Andrew's 
Church,  New  YorTc,  May  19,  1872.] 

"Thou  art  the  glory  of  Jerusalem  ;  thou  ai't  the  joy  of  Israel ;  thou 
art  the  honor  of  our  people." 

These  words,  dearly  belov^ed  brethren,  are  found  in  the 
Book  of  Judith,  and  they  commemorate  a  great  and  event- 
ful period  of  Jewish  history.  At  that  time,  the  Assyrian  King 
sent  a  mighty  amiy,  under  his  general,  Holofernes,  to  subdue 
all  tlie  nations  of  the  earth,  and  to  oblige  them  not  only  to 
forego  their  own  national  existence,  but  also  to  conform  to 
the  religion  and  the  rites  of  the  Assyrians.  This  great  army 
the  Scriptures  describe  to  us  as  invincible.  Their  horses  cov- 
ered the  plains ;  their  soldiers  filled  the  valleys ;  there  was  no 
power  upon  the  earth  able  to  resist  them  j  until  at  length 
they  came  before  a  city  of  Judea,  called  Bethulia.  They 
summoned  the  fortress,  and  commanded  the  soldiers  to  surren- 
der. Now,  in  that  town  there  was  a  woman  by  the  name  of 
Judith.  The  Scriptures  say  of  her  that  she  was  a  holy 
woman;  that  she  lasted  every  day  of  her  life,  and  that,  though 
young  and  fauvand  beautiful  to  behold,  she  lived  altogether 
a  secluded  life,  absorbed  in  prayer  to  God.  When  she  saw 
the  outlying  anny  of  the  Assyrians ; — when  she  heard  the 
proud  claims  of  their  general, — that  the  people  of  her  race,  of 
her  nation,  should  resign  not  only  their  national  life,  but  also 
theu'  religion,  and  forsake  the  God  of  Israel, — she  arose,  in 
the  might  of  her  holiness  and  in  the  power  of  her  strength,  and 
she  went  forth  from  the  city  of  Bethulia ;  she  sought  the 
Assyi'ian  camp ;  she  was  brought  into  the  presence  of 
Holofemes  himseK :  and  at  the  mid  hour  of  night,  while  he 
was  sunk  in  his  drunken  slumbers,  she  entwined  her  hand 
in  the  hair  of  his  head ;  she  drew  his  own  sword  from 
the  scabbard  that  hung  by  the  bed;  and  she  cut  oJ3'  his  head, 
and  brought  it  back  in  triumph  to  her  people.  The  morning 
came.     The  army  found  themselves  without  theh  general. 


THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION.  273 

The  Jewisli  soldiers  and  people  riislied  down  upon  tliem,  and 
there  was  a  mighty  slaughter  and  a  scattering  of  the  enemies 
of  God  and  of  Israel.  And  then  the  people,  returning,  met 
this  wonderful  woman  ;  and  the  High  Priest  said  to  her  these 
words  :  ''  Thou  art  the  glory  of  Jerusalem  ;  thou  art  the  joy 
of  Israel ;  thou  art  the  honor  of  our  people." 

Now,  dearly  beloved,  this  is  not  the  only  woman  recorded 
in  Scriptm-e  who  did  great  things  for  the  people  and  for  the 
Chin-ch  of  God  ;  and  the  word  of  Scripture,  as  applied  to  her, 
was  meant  in  a  higher  and  a  greater  sense  :  it  was  meant 
directly  for  Judith ;  but  it  was  meant  in  a  far  higher  and 
nobler  sense  for  her  of  whom  I  am  come  to  speak  to  you  this 
evening, — the  Virgin  Mother,  who  brought  forth  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  into  this  earth.  To  Mary  does  the  word  apply 
especially,  as  every  great,  heroic  woman  who  appears  in 
Scripture  typified  her.  The  sister  of  Moses,  who  led  the 
choirs  of  the  daughters  of  Israel ;  the  daughter  of  Jeptha, 
who  laid  down  her  virgin  life  for  her  people  ;  Deborah,  who 
led  the  hosts  of  Israel  5  the  mother  of  the  Maccabees,  stand- 
ing in  the  blood  of  her  seven  sons ; — these,  and  all  such 
women  of  whom  the  Scriptures  make  mention,  were  all  types 
of  the  higher,  the  greater,  the  real,  yet  the  ideal  woman, 
who  was  in  the  designs  of  God  to  be  "•  the  glory  of  Jerusa- 
leni,  the  joy  of  Israel,  and  the  honor  of  our  people  5"  namely, 
the  Blessed  and  ImmacuUite  Virgin  Mary.  It  is  of  the  first 
of  her  graces  that  I  am  come  to  speak  to  you.  The  first  of 
her  graces  was  her  immaculate  conception.  Let  us  consider 
this,  and  we  shall  see  how  she  is  "  the  glory  of  Jerusalem, 
the  joy  of  Israel,"'  and  the  honor  of  our  race  and  of  our 
people. 

Dearly  beloved,  we  know  that,  before  the  eyes  of  God, 
before  the  mind  of  God,  before  the  eternal  councils  of  God, 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  past  or  future  as  we  behold  it  in 
the  coiu-se  of  rime.  All  that  we  consider  in  the  past,  in  this 
world's  history,  is  before  the  Almighty  God,  at  this  moment, 
as  if  it  were  at  this  moment  taking  place.  All  that  we  con- 
sider in  the  future,  even  to  the  uttermost  stretch  of  eternity, 
is  before  Uie  mind  of  God  now,  as  if  it  were  actually  taking 
place  under  His  eyes ;  for  the  difference  between  time  and 
eternity  is  this :  that  in  time — that  is  to  say,  in  the  span  of 
our  lite  and  of  the  world's  histoiy — every  thing  comes 
in    buccession  j    event    follows    event,    and    each    moment 


274  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

of  time  follows  the  moment  that  went  before  it  j  but  in  eter- 
nity^ — in  time  as  viewed  in  relation  to  God,  when  time 
assumes  the  infinite  dimensions  of  eternity, — there  is  neither 
past  nor  future,  but  all  is  present  under  the  eye  of  God, 
circumscribed  by  His  infinite  vision  and  His  infinite  wisdom. 
Therefore,  all  that  ever  was  to  take  place  in  time,  was  seen 
and  foreseen  by  the  Almighty  God.  He  foresaw  the  creation 
of  man,  although  that  creation  did  not  come  until  after  the 
eternal  years  that  never  had  a  beginning.  And  so  He  fore- 
saw the  fall  of  man  ;  how  the  first  of  our  race  was  to  pollute 
his  own  nature  by  sin,  and  in  that  personal  pollution  was  to 
pollute  our  whole  nature,  because  our  nature  came  from  Him. 
Just  as  when  a  man  poisons  the  fountain-head  of  a  river, — 
goes  up  into  the  mountains,  finds  the  little  spring  from  which 
the  river  comes,  that  afterwards,  passing  into  the  valley, 
enlarges  its  bed  and  swells  in  its  dimensions,  until  it  rolls  a 
mighty  torrent  into  the  ocean ; — if  you  go  up  into  the  moun- 
tain;— if  3^ou  poison  the  fouutain-head  of  the  little  stream 
that  comes  out  from  under  the  rock  ; — all  the  waters  that 
flow  in  the  river-bed  become  infected  and  poisoned ;  because 
the  spring  and  the  source  of  the  river  is  tainted.  So  also, 
in  Adam,  our  nature  sinned.  He  lay  at  the  fountain-head 
of  humanity ;  and  the  whole  stream  of  our  nature  that  flowed 
from  him  came  down  to  you  and  to  me  with  the  taint 
and  poison  of  sin  in  our  blood  and  in  our  veins.  Therefore 
does  the  Apostle  say  that  "  we  are  all  born  children  of  the 
wrath  of  God ;  "  therefore  did  the  Prophet  of  old  say,  "  For, 
behold  I  was  conceived  in  inicpiity  and  in  sin  did  my  mother 
conceive  me."  God  saw  and  foresaw  all  this  from  eternity ; 
He  saw  that  His  creature,  man,  A^hom  He  made  so  pm*e,  so 
perfect,  so  holy,  was  to  be  spoiled  and  tainted  by  sin.  In 
that  universal  corruption,  the  Almighty  God  reserved  to 
Himself  one,  and  only  one,  of  the  race  of  mankind,  and  pre- 
served that  one  specimen  of  our  race  unpolluted,  untainted, 
unf alien.  That  one  was  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  Cer- 
tainly such  a  one  must  have  existed :  because  tlie  Scripture, 
— the  inspired  word  of  God, — speaks  of  such  a  one  when  it 
says,  in  the  language  of  the  Psalmist :  "  Thou  art  all  fair, 
O  my  beloved,  and  there  is  no  spot  nor  stain  in  thee."  Who 
is  she  ?  Is  she  multiplied  ?  Is  she  found  here  and  there 
.among  the  daughters  of  men  "?  No  ;  she  is  one  and  only  one. 
Therefore  the  Scripture  says  :  .  "  JVIy  beloved,  my  .love,  my 


THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION.  275 

dove  is  one  and  onl}'-  one."  That  one  was  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Maiy.  God  took  her  and  preserved  her  from  the 
stream  of  corruption  that  infected  our  whole  nature.  God 
folded  His  arms  of  infinite  sanctity  around  her,  and  took  her 
in  the  very  first  moments  of  her  existence, — nay,  in  the  eternal 
decree  that  went  before  that  existence.  He  folded  her  in  the 
arms  of  His  own  infinite  sanctity  ;  and  she  is  the  one  to  whom 
shade  or  thoug»iit  of  sin  or  evil  has  never  been  allowed  to 
approach.  Why  is  this  ?  Because,  dearly  beloved,  she  was 
destined  from  all  eternity  to  be  the  Mother  of  God,  who  was 
made  incarnate  in  her.  The  language  of  the  Church  is:  '^He 
was  incarnate  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and 
was  made  man."  She  was  destined  from  all  eternit}^  to  be 
the  Mother  of  God, — to  give  to  the  Almighty  God  that 
humanity,  that  bod}^,  that  flesh  and  blood  which  He  was  to 
assume  in  His  own  divine  person,  and  to  make  one  with  God 
by  the  unity  of  one  divine  person,  the  Second  Person  of  the 
Blessed  Trinity.     Reflect  upon  this. 

The  Scriptures  expressly  tell  us  that  nothing  defiled  can 
approach  to  God — that  nothing  with  the  slightest  speck  or 
stain  of  sin  upon  it  can  come  near  God.  Therefore  it  is  that, 
in  proportion  as  men  approach  to  God,  in  the  same  proportion 
are  they  immaculate.  Almighty  God  tells  us,  in  the  Scrip- 
ture, expressly,  that,  although  all  men  were  to  be  born  in  sin, 
yet  there  were  a  few,  a  very  few,  who  were  excepted  from 
that  general  nile,  because  they  were  allowed  to  approach  so 
near  God.  The  Prophet  Jeremias  was  excepted  from  that 
rule ;  and  he  was  sanctified  before  he-  came  forth  from  his 
mother's  womb.  ''  Before  thou  camest  forth  from  thy  mother, 
I  sanctified  thee,"  said  the  Lord.  And  why  !  Because  he 
was  destined  to  be  a  prophet,  and  to  propound  the  word  of 
God  to  the  people.  John  the  Baptist  was  sanctified  in  his 
mothei-'s  womb,  and  came  forth  in  his  birth  free  from  the 
original  sin  of  Adam,  becatise  he  was  destined  to  be  the  one 
among  men  to  say :  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  who  takes 
away  the  sins  of  the  world."  And  if  these  men, — one  because 
he  was  to  preach  the  word  of  God,  another  because  he  was  to 
point  out  God  to  man, — if  they,  because  of  this  high  function, 
were  born  without  sin,  surely,  dearly  beloved,  we  must  con- 
clude that  the  woman  who  was  to  give  God  His  sacred  human- 
ity, the  woman  who  was  to  be  the  Mother  of  God,  the  woman 
who  was  to  afford  to  the  Almighty  God  that  blood  by  which 


276  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

He  \viped  out  the  sin  of  the  world,  that  woman  must  receive 
far  more  than  either  John  the  Baptist  or  Jeremias  received  ; 
and  the  grace  that  she  received  must  have  been  the  grace  of 
her  conception  without  sin.  And,  in  truth,  as  nothing 
defiled,  nothing  tainted,  was  ever  allowed  to  approach 
Almighty  God,  the  woman  who  approached  Him  nearest  of 
all  the  daughters  of  the  earth,  who  came  nearer  to  God  tlian 
all  His  Angels  in  Heaven  were  allowed  to  approach  Him, 
must  be  the  only  one  of  whom  the  Scripture  speaks  when  it 
says  :  '^  My  beloved  is  one  and  only  one,  and  she  is  all  fair, 
and  there  is  no  spot  nor  stain  in  her." 

What  follows  from  this?  It  follows  that  the  immaculate 
woman  who  was  destined  to  be  the  Mother  of  Jesus  Christ, 
received  at  the  first  moment  of  her  being  a  grace  inconceiv- 
ably gi eater  than  all  the  grace  that  was  given  to  all  the 
Angels  in  heaven,  to  all  the  Saints  upon  the  earth,  because 
the  dignity  in  which  she  was  created  was  inconceivably 
greater  than  theirs.  The  highest  Angel  in  heaven  was  made 
but  to  be  the  servant  of  God  j  Mary  was  created  to  be  the 
Mother  of  God.  What  was  that  grace?  Perfect  purity, 
perfect  sinlessness,  perfect  immaculateness,  and  consequently 
perfect  love  of  God  and  highest  union  with  Him.  For,  reflect, 
my  dear  friends,  wheresoever  the  human  soul  is  found  per- 
fectly fi'ee  from  sin,  without  spot  or  stain  of  sin,  without  the 
slightest  inclination  or  temptation  to  sin, — wheresoever  such 
a  soul  is  found,  that  soul  is  united  to  the  Almighty  God  by 
the  highest,  by  the  most  perfect  and  the  most  intimate  union 
of  divine  love.  God  loves  all  His  creatures  ;  God  loves  the 
soul  of  man ;  so  that  wherever  He  finds  that  there  is  no  im- 
pedmient  of  sin,  no  distortion  of  inclination,  nothing  to  hinder 
that  union,  He  gives  himself  to  that  soul  in  the  most  intimate 
and  the  highest  form  of.  love  j  and  He  gathers  that  soul  to 
him  b}^  a  most  perfect  union.  Hence  it  is  that  perfect  union 
with  God  and  perfect  sinlessness  mean  one  and  the  same 
thing. 

The  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  conceived  without  sin,  was  kept 
and  held  aside  to  let  the  stream  of  sin  flow  by  without  touch- 
ing her.  The  only  one  in  whom  our  nature  was  preserved 
in  all  its  pristine  beauty  and  perfection,  the  blessed  Virgin 
Mary,  in  that  sinlessness  of  her  conception,  attained  at  the 
moment  of  her  conception  the  most  perfect  and  intimate  union 
with  God.     And  this, — for  which  all  the  Saints  and  all  holy 


THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION.  Til 

souls  strive  on  the  earth, — the  ver}^  highest  climax  of  saintly 
perfection, — was  the  first  beginning-  of  her  sanctity.  The  saint 
who  wearies  himself  dnring  the  sixty  or  seventy  years  of  his 
life,  the  hermit  in  the  desert,  the  martyr  in  the  arena,  all  aim 
at  this  one  thing, — to  pm'ge  their  sonls  most  perfectly  from 
sin,  from  every  mortal  and  venial  sin;  to  rise  above  their 
passions  and  their  lower  and  sinful  nature  ;  and,  in  proportion 
as  they  attain  to  this,  do  they  climb  the  sunnnit  of  perfection 
and  attain  to  closer  union  with  God.  That  whicli  all  the 
saints  tend  to, — that  which  all  the  virgins  and  saints  in  the 
Church  thirst  for, — that  which  they  consider  as  the  very 
summit  of  their  perfection, — that  is  the  grace  that  was  given 
to  Mary  at  the  first  moment  of  her  being ; — namely,  to  be 
perfectly  pure,  perfectly  sinless,  perfectly  immaculate,  con- 
sequently, perfectly  united  to  God  by  supreme  and  most 
intimate  union.  And  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  word  of 
Scripture  :  "  The  foundations  of  her  are  laid  upcm  the  holy 
mountain.  The  Lord  loves  the  threshold  of  Zion  more 
than  all  the  tabernacles  and  tents  of  Jndah ; "  more  than  all 
the  accumulated  perfection  qf  all  the  Angels  and  Saints  of 
God.  Where  they  end  is  the  beginning  of  Mary's  perfection 
in  His  sight. 

And  now  let  me.  apply  the  text :  "  Thou  art  the  glory  of 
Jerusalem  ;  thou  art  the  joy  of  Israel ;  thou  art  the  honor  of 
our  people."  Yvlienever  the  Scriptures  speak  figuratively  or 
spirituallv  of  Jerasalem,  they  always  allude  to  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven,  the  kingdom  of  the  just  made  perfect.  The 
Church  of  God,  dearly  beloved,  consists  of  three  great 
elements  or  portions.  There  is  the  Church  that  purges,  in 
Purgatory,  the  elect  of  God,  by  the  slow  action  of  divine 
justice,  cleansing  them  from  every  stain  and  paying  the  last 
farthing  of  then  debt.  That  is  the  Church  Suffering.  There 
is  the  Church  on  earth,  cimtending  against  the  world,  the  fiesh, 
and  the  devil;  fighting  a  hard  and  weary  battle,  which  you 
and  I  are  obliged  to  fight  every  day  of  our  lives.  We  are 
obliired  to  fight  against  our  passions  and  subdue  them.  We 
are  obliged  to  fight  against  the  powers  of  darkness  seeking  our 
destruction,  and  subdue  them.  We  are  obliged  to  fight  with 
the  world,  surrounding  us  with  its  evil  maxims,  with  iis  loose 
principles,  with  its  false  ideas  of  morality,  with  its  bad 
example;  and,  despising  all  these,  to  concpier  tiiem.  We 
are  obliged  to  fight  the  battle  of  our  faith.     Wo  are  obliged 


278  FATHER  BURKKS  DISCOURSES. 

to  enter  upon  this,  that,  and  the  other  questions,  and  upon 
these  questions  to  take  our  stand  as  Catholics,  and  to  fight 
the  good  fight  of  faith.     The  question  of  Sacraments,  the 
question  of  Educati(jn,  the  question  of  the  Church,  the  ques- 
tion of  the  Pope,  the  question  of  the  injustice  of  the  worhl  in 
robbing  him  of  all  his  power  and  of  his  dignity ;  these,  and 
a  thousand  others,  are  the  burden  of  the  Church's  battle  on 
this  earth;   and,  therefore,  she  is  called  the  Church  Militant. 
But  the  Suffering  Church  or  the  Militant  Chui-ch  is  still  tlie 
Church  of  Grod.     Having  passed  through  the  battle-field  of 
earth,  having  passed  through  the  purgation  of  Purgator}-,  and 
haA^ng  attained  to  the  vision  of  God,  there  she  triumphs; 
there  she  rejoices  in  the  undiminished  glory  and  the  uncreated 
brightness  of   God ;— and  that  is  the  Church  Triumphant. 
Now,  the  Scriptures,  speaking  of  that  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  or 
of  the  Church  Triumphant,  mentions  it  under  the  name  of 
Jerusalem.      For    instance:    "I    saw,''    says   the   inspired 
Evangelist,  ''  the  New  Jerasalem  descending  from  Heaven, 
as  a  bnde  aiTayed  for  her  biidegroom."      St.  Paul,  speaking 
of  the  same  Kingdom,  says  :  "  Thou  art  come  to  Moimt  Zion, 
and  to  the  city  of  the  living  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem, 
and  to  the  kingdom  of  the  just  made  perfect."     Jerusalem, 
therefore,  as  expressed  in  the  words  of  my  text,  '^  Thou  art 
the  glory  of  Jerusalem,"  means  the  Church  Triumphant.     It 
means  the  glorious  assemblage  of  all  the  Angels  of  God ;    it 
means  the  glorious  society  of  all  the  Saints  of  God ;  it  means 
all   that    Heaven   or   earth    ever    held    or   had   of    noble, 
generous,  self-sacrificing   and    devoted,  now   crowned    with 
the  everlasting  glory  of  the  presence  of  God.      And  of  that 
assemblage  of  the  Church  Triumphant  Mary  is  the  glory. 
She  is  the  glory :  and  why  ?      Because,  as  the  Scripture  tells 
us  expressly,  the  Angels  of  God  are  interested  in  the  affairs 
of  this  world.     Our  Lord,  speaking  of  little  children,  says : 
"  Woe  to  you  who  scandalize  them  ;    because  their  Angels 
see  the  face  of  my  Father."     Elsewhere  He  says  :  "  There  is 
more  jov  in  Heaven  for  one  sinner  doing  penance  than  for 
ninty-nme  just  who  need  not  repentance."      If,  then,  the 
Angels  in  Heaven  rejoice  at  every  new  manifestation  of  the 
glory  and  omnipotence  of  God ;  if  their  glory  is  to  contem- 
plate the  Almighty  God  in  His  works ;  it  follows  that,  when- 
ever they  see  these  w^orks  destroyed,  whenever  they  see  the 
purposes  of  the  Almighty  God  frustrated,  whenever  they  see 


THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION.  279 

the  work  and  tlie  mercy  of  God  mined,  tbey  must  grieve,  as 
far  as  they  are  capable  of  grieving,  because  they  rejoice  when 
that  work  is  restored  by  repentance.  They,  therefore,  look- 
ing down  from  their  high  places  in  Heaven,  beheld  with 
great  joy  the  new-born  race  of  men  ;  they  beheld  the  work  of 
God,  most  perfect  in  our  first  parents,  Adam  and  Eve.  They 
saw  in  the  fii'st  woman  that  was  created  the  woman  who  was 
destined  in  her  progeny  to  people  Heaven  with  saints,  and  to 
fill  the  thrones  that  were  left  vacant  there  by  the  defection  of 
the  rebel  angels.  Their  glory  was  that  their  choirs  before  God 
might  be  filled,  and  that  the  chorus  of  Heavenly  music  might 
be  perfect  in  its  harmony  by  the  filling  of  their  places.  They 
saw  that  one-third  of  their  angelic  brethren  had  fallen  into 
hell,  and  left  the  halls  of  Heaven  more  or  less  empty  by 
their  fall.  They  waited, — they  waited  for  many  years, — we 
know  not  how  long :  we  know  not  but  that  that  time  of 
waiting  may  have  extended  for  thousands  of  years ; — until, 
at  length,  they  beheld  the  Creator  make  the  new  creature, 
man.  They  knew  the  destinies  of  man  j  they  knew  that  this 
woman,  who  was  created  upon  the  earth,  was  to  be  the  mother 
of  the  race  that  was  to  fill  up  their  choirs,  and  to  fulfil  and 
make  perfect  their  glory  in  Heaven.  Oh,  how  sad  was  their 
disappointment ! — oh,  how  terrible  was  their  grief,  when  they 
saw  Eve  fall  into  sin,  and  become  the  mother  of  a  race  of 
reprobates,  and  not  of  saints,  and  her  destiny  change ;  that 
she  should  people  hell  with  reprobates  rather  than  fulfil  her 
high  destiny  and  people  Heaven  with  saints.  Mary  arose. 
The  earth  beheld  her  face.  Her  coming  was  as  the  rising 
of  the  morning  star,  which,  trembling  in  its  silvery  beauty 
over  the  eastern  hills,  tells  the  silent  and  the  darkened  world 
that  the  bright  sun  is  about  to  follow  it  and  dispel  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night  by  the  splendor  and  the  brightness  of  its 
shining.  Mary  arose ;  and  when  the  Angels  of  God  beheld 
her,  their  glory  was  fulfilled ;  for  now  they  knew  that  the 
mother  of  the  Saints  was  come,  and  that  the  woman  was 
created  who  was  to  do  what  had  failed  in  Eve, — to  people 
Heaven  and  fill  Heaven's  choirs  with  the  progeny  of  saints  in 
everlasting  glory.  Therefore  did  they  hail  her  coming  with 
angelic  joy.  Oh,  what  joy  was  theirs  when  they  looked 
down  upon  the  earth  and  beheld  the  fallen  race  of  man  re- 
stored in  all  its  first  integrity  in  Mary  !  Oh,  what  joy  was 
theirs  who  rejoiced  when  Magdalen  arose  in  all  the  purity  of 


280  FATHER  B VERB'S  DISCOURSES. 

her  repentance ; — they  wlio  rejoice  and  make  the  vaults  of 
Heaven  ring  with  their  joy  when  you  or  I  make  a  good  con- 
fession, and  do  penance  for  our  sins  !  Oh,  wliat  must  their 
joy  have  been,  and  the  riot  of  their  delight  and  of  their 
glory,  when  Mary  arose,  and  they  beheld,  in  her,  the  mother 
of  all  those  who  are  ever  to  be  saved,  the  niotber  of  all  true 
penitents,  the  mother  of  all  the  elect  of  God  ;  for,  becoming 
the  mother  of  Jesus  Christ,  she  has  become  the  mother  of  all 
the  just.  Tlierefore,  she  is  the  glory  of  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem.  Therefore  did  these  Angels,  on  the  day  of  her 
assumption,  joyfully  come  to  Heaven's  gate,  and  fill  the  mid- 
air with  the  sound  of  their  tiiumph,  when  Heaven's  Queen,  the 
Mother  of  God,  was  raised  to  the  place  of  her  glory.  ^'  The 
morning  stars  praised  the  Lord  together,  and  all  the  suns  of 
God  made  a  joyful  melody."  The  glory  of  Jerusalem,  the 
Angels'  glory  is  concentrated  in  the  glory  of  God.  "Whatever 
gives  glory  to  God  glorifies  tbem.  Now^,  in  all  the  works 
of  God,  He  is  most  glorified  in  Mary,  as  we  shall  see ;  and 
therefore  Mary  is  the  glorv  of  the  heavenly  Jemsalem,  and 
the  delight  of  God's  blessed  Spirits  and  Angels  in  His 
everlasting  kingdom. 

But  she  is  more  j  she  is  "  the  joy  of  Israc-l."  What  is  this 
Israel?  Jerusalem  was  the  summit  of  Israel's  triumphs. 
Israel  had  to  fight  for  many  a  weary  year  before  the  founda- 
tions of  the  Holy  City  were  laid.  Israel,  that  is  to  say,  the 
Jewish  people,  passed  through  the  desert,  crossing  the  Red 
Sea,  fighting  with  their  enemies,  there  to  wait  for  many  a 
long  and  weary  year,  until  the  Holy  City  of  Jerusalem  was 
raised  up  in  all  its  beauty,  and  until  the  temple  of  God  was 
founded  there.  And  just  as  that  city,  Jerusalem,  represents 
the  Church  Triumphant,  so  by  the  name  of  Israel  the  inspired 
writer  meant  the  Church  Militant,  the  Church  in  the  desert 
of  this  earth,  the  Church  passing  through  the  Red  Sea  of  the 
martyrs'  blood,  the  Church  crossing  swords  with  every  enemy 
of  God,  and  fighting  and  bearing  the  bm'den  and  heat  of  the 
day.  Of  that  Church  Militant,  of  that  Israel  of  God,  Mary 
is  the  joy.  Why  ?  Dearly  beloved,  Christ,  our  Lord,  founded 
His  Church  for  one  express  purpose,  and  it  was  that,  where 
sin  had  abounded,  sin  might  be  destroyed  and  grace  abound 
still  more.  "  For  this  I  am  come,"  He  says,  '^  that  where  sin 
hath  abounded  grace  might  abound  still  more."  Wherever, 
therefore,  there  is  a  \dctory  over  sin  by  Divine  grace,  there  is 


THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION.  281 

the  joy  of  tlie  Church  Militant,  because  there  is  her  work  ac- 
complished. Wherever  the  sinner  rises  out  of  his  sin,  and 
does  penance  and  returns  to  God,  there  the  Church  triumphs, 
her  mission  is  fulfilled,  the  purpose  for  which  she  was  created 
is  accomplished,  and  her  joy  is  great  in  proportion.  Now 
where  has  grace  so  triumphed  as  in  Mary  ?  Sin  abounded  in 
this  world.  Clirist  came  and  shed  His  blood  that  grace  might 
take  the  place  of  sin,  and  superabound  wliere  sin  hud  abound- 
ed before.  Where  has  grace  so  triumphed  over  sin  as  in 
Mary !  Great  is  the  triumph  of  grace  when  it  expels  sin 
from  the  sinner's  soul  and  makes  that  which  was  impure  to 
be  purified,  and  makes  that  which  was  unjust  to  be  glorified 
by  sanctity  before  God.  Oh,  still  greater  is  the  triumph 
when  grace  can  so  anticipate  sin  as  never  to  allow  it  to  make 
its  appearance !  The  most  perfect  triumph  of  grace  is  in  the 
utter  exclusion  of  sin.  Therefore,  it  is  that  Christ,  our  Lord, 
in  His  sacred  hmnanity,  was  grace  itself  personified  in  man  j 
because  in  Him  there  was  essential  holiness,  and  an  utter 
impossibility  of  the  approach  of  sin.  If,  therefore,  the  joy 
of  the  Church  be  in  proportion  to  the  triumpli  of  grace  over 
sin,  surely  she  must  be  '^  the  joy  of  Israel,"  and  the  first  fruits 
of  the  Church,  the  only  one  that  this  mystical  body  of  Christ 
can  ofier  to  God  as  perfectly  acceptable ;  the  only  soul,  the 
only  creature  that  the  Church  can  ofi'er  to  God  and  say  : 
^'  Lord,  look  doW'U  from  Heaven  upon  this  child  and  daughter 
of  mine  ;  she  is  Thy  beloved  in  whom  there  is  no  spot  nor 
stain.     She  is  the  joy  of  Israel." 

Oh,  my  dearly  beloved,  need  I  tell  you, — you  who  were 
bom  in  the  faith  like  myself ;  you  who  come  from  Catholic 
stock,  who  come  from  Catholic  blood ;  you  in  whose  veins, 
in  whose  Irish  veins,  hundreds  of  years  of  Catholic  faith  and 
Catholic  sanctity  are  flowing, — need  I  tell  you  of  the  woman 
whose  name,  preached  by  Patrick,  fourteen  hundred  years 
ago,  has  been,  from  that  hour  to  this,  Ireland's  greatest  con- 
solation in  the  midst  of  her  sorrows  f  In  the  loss  of  fortune, 
in  the  loss  of  property,  in  the  loss  of  liberty,  in  the  loss  of 
national  existence,  every  Irish  Catholic  has  been  consoled  in 
the  midst  of  his  privations,  by  the  thought  that  tlie  Mother 
of  God  loved  him,  and  that  he  had  a  claim  upon  Mary 
^lotlier.  Well  do  I  remember  one  whose  expression  em- 
bodied all  of  Irish  faith  and  Irish  love  for  ]\Iary  ;  an  old 
woman  whom  I  met,  weeping  over  a  grave,  lying  there  with 


282  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

a  broken  teart,  waiting  only  for  the  kind  hand  of  Death  to 
put  her  into  the  dust  where  all  she  had  loved  had  gone  before 
her  J  forgotten  by  all,  abandoned  by  all,  the  hand  of  misery 
and  poverty  upon  her  ;  and  when  I  would  console  and  speak 
to  her  of  heaven  and  of  heaven's  glory  ;  when  I  endeavored 
to  lighten  the  burden  of  her  sorrow  by  consolation;  she 
turned  to  me  and  said  :  ^'  Oh,  Father,  you  need  not  speak  to 
me.  The  cross  may  be  heavy,  bat  the  Virgin  Mary's  cross  was 
heavier  than  mine."  She  forgot  her  sorrows  in  her  great  love 
for  Mary.  Nay,  that  love,  even  in  her  sorrow,  was  as  a  gleam 
of  hope,  one  ray  of  joy  let  in  upon  the  soul  that  otherwise 
might  have  despaired.  And  thus  it  is  that  Mary, — the  know- 
ledge of  her  love  for  us,  the  knowledge  of  our  claim  upon 
her^  through  her  divine  Son,  and  the  knowledge  of  the 
divine  commission  that  He  gave  her  upon  the  Cross,  to  be 
the  Mother  of  all  that  were  ever  to  love  Him, — is  the  one 
ray  of  joyful  and  divine  consolation  that  Chi'ist,  our  Lord,  lets 
in  upon  every  wounded  spiiit,  and  every  loving,  grieving 
heart. 

Finally,  she  is  '^  the  honor  of  our  people."  Dear  friends, 
the  Almighty  God  when  He  created  us  made  man  in  perfection : 
^^Deiis  fecit  hominem  rectumP  He  gave  to  man  a  mighty 
intelligence,  a  high  and  a  pure  love,  and  a  freedom  of  will 
asserting  the  dominion  of  the  soul  over  the  body,  and  through 
that  body  the  dominion  of  man  over  all  creatures.  Every 
thing  on  this  earth  obeyed  him.  The  eagle,  flying  in  the 
upper  air,  closed  his  wings  and  came  to  earth  to  pa}'-  homage 
to  the  unfallen  man.  The  lion  and  the  tiger,  at  the  sound  of 
his  voice,  came  forth  from  theii"  lairs  to  lick  the  feet  of  their 
imperial  master,  the  mifallen  man.  As  every  thing  without 
him  was  obedient  to  him,  so  every  thing  within  him  was 
obedient  to  the  dictates  of  his  clear  reason  and  to  the  empire 
of  his  will.  In  this  was  the  honor  of  God  reflected  as  it  was 
invested  in  man.  God  gave  him  intelligence.  God  is 
wisdom  :  His  wisdom  was  invested  in  man.  God  gave  him 
love.  God  is  love  :  and  the  purity  of  that  love  was  reflected 
in  the  afi'ections  of  unfallen  man.  God  is  powder,  empire,  and 
freedom :  and  the  empire  of  God,  and  the  freedom  of  God, 
were  reflected  in  the  free  will  of  man,  in  the  imperial  sway 
in  which  he  commanded  all  creatures.  Thus  was  the  honor 
of  God  invested  in  us.  Now,  sin  came  and  destroyed  all 
this.     The  serpent  came  and  whispered  his  temptation  in  the 


THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION.  283 

cars  of  the  vain  and  foolish  woman,  who,  unmindful  of  all 
that  she  had,  risked  all  and  lost  all  for  the  gratification  of 
her  appetite  and  of  her  womanly  curiosity.  The  serpent 
came  and  told  Eve  to  rebel  against  God.  Eve  rebelled  ; 
she  induced  Adam  to  rebel ;  and,  in  this  two-fold  rebellion, 
man  lost  all  that  God  had  given  him  of  grace  and  of  super- 
natural gifts.  All  of  divine  honor  that  God  Almighty  had 
reflected  in  man,  a^l  of  divine  glory  that  he  had  imparted  to 
man,  all  was  lost.  The  intelligence  was  darkened ;  the  affec- 
tions were  depraved ;  the  freedom  of  the  soul  was  enslaved ; 
and  man  was  no  longer  the  high,  and  pm-e,  and  perfect  image 
of  his  Creator. 

Xow,  as  we  have  seen  in  that  sin  of  Adam,  not  only  was 
that  man  himself  destroyed  and  corrupted,  but  the  whole  race 
of  mankind  was  corrupted  in  him.  How  is  Mary  the  honor 
of  our  people  ?  She  is  the  honor  of  our  people  in  this,  that 
where  all  was  rained,  she  alone  was  preserved ;  that,  but  for 
her  and  her  immaculate  conception,  neither  God  in  Heaven, 
nor  Saint  nor  Angel  in  Heaven,  nor  man  upon  the  earth 
would  ever  again  Took  upon  the  face  of  unfallen  man.  The 
work  of  God  would  have  been  completely  destroyed ;  not  a 
vestige  would  remain  of  what  man  was  as  he  came  from  his 
Creatoi-'s  hiind,  but  that  the  Almighty  preserved  one  unfallen 
specimen  of  our  race,  to  show  His  Angels  and  His  Saints  in 
Heaven,  and  to  show  all  men  upon  the  earth,  what  a  glorious 
humanity  was  the  untainted  nature  which  God  had  invested 
in  man.  She  is  the  solitary  boast  of  our  fallen  nature.  Take 
Mary  away ;  deprive  her'  of  the  grace  of  her  immaculate 
conception*;  let  the  slightest  taint  of  sin  come  in ;— she  is 
spoiled  like  the  rest  of  us :  and  the  Almighty  God  has  not 
retained,  in  the  destruction  of  our  race,  one  single  specimen 
of  unfallen  nature.  But  not  so ;  for  God  in  all  His  works 
may  allow  His  enemy  to  prevail  against  Him ;  He  may  allow 
the*  spirit  of  evil  to  come  in,  and  spoil  and  taint  and  destroy 
His  works ;  but  He  never  allows  His  works  to  be  utterly 
destroyed :  never.  When  mankind  fell  from  God  and  from 
grace,  so  that  the  image  of  God  disappeared,  and  the  spirit 
of  God  from  among  them;  and  the  Almighty  found  it 
necessary  to  destroy  the  whole  race  of  man  in  the  Deluge, — 
He  presei-ved  Noah,  and  his  son&,  and  his  daughters.  Eight 
souls  were  lu-eserved,  while  hundreds  of  millions  were 
destroyed  ;  but  God,  in  these  eight  souls,  preserved  the  race, 


284  FATHER  BUEKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

and  did  not  allow  the  spirit  of  evil  to  utterly  destroy  His 
work.  When  God  drew  back  again  the  bolts  of  heaven,  and 
allowed  the  living  fire  of  His  wa-ath  to  fall  upon  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah,  and  destroyed  the  whole  nation,  yet  even  then 
He  saved  Lot  and  his  family  ;  and  a  few  were  saved,  where 
all  the  rest  were  lost.  When  the  Almighty  resolved  to 
destroy,  for  their  impirrity,  nhe  race  of  Benjamin,  yet  He 
preserved  a  few,  lest  the  whole  tribe,  might  be  utterly 
destroved. 

And  thus  it  is  that  we  find  the  Almighty  God  always 
preserving  one  or  two  specimens  of  His  work,  lest  the  devil 
might  glory  overmuch,  and  riot  in  his  joy  for  having  utterly 
destroyed  the  work  of  God.  Our  nature  was  destroyed  in 
Eve.  One  fair  specimen  of  all  that  could  be  in  us, — of  all 
that  was  in  Adam 'before  his  sin, — of  all  that  God  intended 
us  to  be, — one  fair  specimen  of  all  this  was  preserved  in 
Mary,  who,  in  her  immaculate  conception,  enshrined  in  the 
infinite  holiness  of  God,  was  preserved  untainted  and  un- 
fallen,  as  if  Adam  had  never  sinned.  It  may  be  asked,  if, 
then,  this  woman  was  without  sin,  if  she  was  conceived 
without  sin,  how  is  it  that  she  calls  Clirist  her  Saviour, 
saying :  "  My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord,  and  my  spirit 
hath  rejoiced' in  God,  my  Saviour."  Oh,  my  friends,  need  I 
tell  you  that  Christ,  our  Lord,  is  as  much  the  Saviour  of  Mary 
as  He  is  your  Saviour  or  mine  ?  Need  I  tell  you  that,  but 
for  His  incarnation,  but  for  His  suffering  and  passion  and 
death,  Mary  could  not  have  received  the  grace  of  her  immacu- 
late conception,  any  more  than  you  or  I  could  have  received 
the  grace  of  our  baptism  !  Baptism  has  done  for  us,  as  far 
as  regards  the  removal  of  original  sin,  all  that  her  immacu- 
late conception  did  for  Mary.  For  the  four  thousand  years 
that  went  before  the  incarn'ation  of  the  Son  of  God,  every 
child  of  Adam  that  was  saved,  was  saved  through  the  antici- 
pated merits  of  the  blood  that  was  shed  upon  Calvary. 
Adam  himself  was  saved,  Moses  was  saved,  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob,  Daniel,  all  the  Prophets,  all  the  Saints  were, 
saved  by  their  faith  in  the  Son  of  God,  and  by  the  pre- 
vision of  His  merits  before  His  Eternal.  Father.  The  merits 
of  the  Son  of  God,  as  yet  unincarnate,  yet  foreseen  and 
applied,  thousands  of  years  before  their  time,  to  the  souls  of 
the  Patriarchs  and  the'  Prophets, — the  self-same  merits  were 
applied  to  the  soul  of  Mary  in  the  eternal  design  of  God,  in 


THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION.  285 

her  immaculate  conception.  He  is  as  much  her  Saviour  as 
He  is  ours ;  only  He  saved  her  in  a  way  quite  different  from 
that  in  which  we  were  saved.  You  may  save  a  man,  for 
instance,  by  keeping  him  from  going  into  the  way  of  danger ; 
you  may  save  a  child  by  taking  it  out  of  the  street,  when 
some  dangerous  procession  is  passing,  or  when  some  railway 
engine  is  passing — something  that  may  endanger  its  life  ;  or 
you  may  save  the  same  child,  when  in  immediate  danger,  by 
the  touch  of  your  powerful  and  saving  hand,  and  restore  it  to 
life.  So,  the  Almighty  God  saved  Mary  by  preventing  the 
evil,  just  as  He  saves  us  by  cleansing  us  from  the  evil  ^yllich 
has  already  fallen  on  us.  Hence  it  is  that  she,  more  than 
any  of  us,  had  reason  to  call  Christ,  her  Son,  her  Lord  and 
her  Saviour.  "  My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord,"  she  said, 
"  and  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviom."  Truly 
He  was 'her  Saviom\  Truly  He  shows  His  power  in  the 
manner  in  which  He  saved  her.  He  did  not  permit  her  to 
be  immersed  in  the  ocean  of  sin.  He  did  not  take  her,  as 
something  filthy  and  defiled,  and  wash  her  soul  in  the  laver 
of  Baptism  j  but  he  applied  the  graces  of  Baptism  to  her 
conception  ;  so  that  she  came  into  this  world  all  pure,  all 
holy,  all  immaculate,  just  as  the  Christian  child  comes  forth 
from  the  baptismal  font. 

Behold,  then,  how  she  is  the  glory  of  the  heavenly  Jeru- 
salem, the  joy  of  the  earthly  Church  of  Israel,  and  the  honor 
of  our  people  ;  seeing  that,  if  Mary  were  not  as  she  is  in 
Heaven,  immaculate  and  unstained,  that  Heaven  would  be, 
after  all,  only  a  congregation  of  penitents.  Every  other 
soul  that  enters  Heaven  enters  as  a  Magdalen — at  least,  as 
Magdalen  i-ising  from  original  sin.  Mary  alone  entered 
Heaven,  as  Eve  w^ould  have  entered  if  she  had  resisted  the 
evil  and  conquered  the  temptation  of  sin.  Thus  do  we 
behold  the  Mother  of  God  as  she  shines  forth  before  us  in 
the  prophecy  of  Scripture — an  honor  and  a  triumph  and  a 
•symbol  of  God's  com})lete  victory.  The  victory  that  God 
gains  over  sin  is  not  complete  when  He  has  to  come  to  remedy 
that  evil  after  it  has  fallen  upon  the  soul.  The  complete 
trium})h  of  God  is  when  He  is  able  to  preserve  the  soul  from 
any  approach  of  that  evil,  and  to  keep  it  in  all  its  original 
purity  and  immaculateness  and  innocence. 

Such  was  the  woman  whom  the  Prophet  beheld  :  "  And 
a  great  sign  appeared  in  Heaven — a  woman  clothed  with  the 


286  FATHER  BUREWS DISCOURSES. 

sun,  and  the  moon  under  her  feet,  and  on  her  head  a  crown 
of  twelve  stars."  Of  what  was  tiiis  woman  a  sign?  She 
was  the  sign  of  the  victory  of  God ;  for  he  adds :  ^'  And  I 
saw  another  sign  in  Heaven,  a  great  dragon  coming  to 
devour  the  woman  and  to  destroy  her  ;  but  it  was  cast  forth 
and  there  was  no  room  for  him  nor  place  for  him  any  more 
in  Heaven."  And  Mary  shone  forth,  in  the  eternal  council 
of  God,  the  very  sign  and  type,  promise  and  symbol  of  God's 
victory  over  sin.  God's  victory  over  sin  was  complete,  as 
every  victory  of  God  is  ;  and  the  completeness  of  that  victory 
was  embodied  in  the  immaculate  conception  of  Mary, 

What  wonder,  then,  my  dearly  beloved,  that  we  should 
honor  one  whom  God  has  so  loved  to  honor !  What  wonder 
that  we  should  hail  her  as  all-pure  j  hail  her  from  earth, 
whom  God  hailed  from  Heaven,  saying  :  "  Thou  art  all  fair, 
my  beloved,  and  there  is  no  stain  in  thee!"  What  wonder 
that  we  should  rejoice  in  her  who  is  the  joy  and  the  glory 
of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem !  What  wonder  that  we  should 
sing  praises  to  her  5  put  her  forth  as  the  very  type  of  purity, 
innocence,  and  virtue,  whom  the  Almighty  God  so  filled 
with  all  his  highest  gifts,  that  Heaven  and  earth  never  beheld 
such  a  creatm'e  as  Mary ;  that  the  very  Angel,  coming  down 
from  before  the  throne  of  God,  was  astonished  when  he 
beheld  her  greatness ;  and,  bending  in  his  human  form  before 
her,  said :  "  All  hail  to  thee,  0  Mary,  for  thou  art  full  of 
grace  3"  and  when  she  trembled  at  his  words,  he  assm'ed  her, 
saying  :  "  Fear  not,  0  Mary,  for  thou  hast  found  grace  before 
the  Lord."  Oh,  how  grand  was  her  finding !  Grace  was 
lost  by  the  first  woman,  Eve :  and  every  daughter  of  earth 
souglit  it  for  four  thousand  years,  and  found  .it  not.  How 
could  they  find  it  1  .  They  came  into  this  world  without  it. 
How  could  they  find  that  grace  which  Eve  had  lost?  They 
came  tainted  by  Eve's  sin  upon  this  earth.  Mary  alone  found 
it — the  grace  of  immaculate  creation,  the  grace  of  primeval 
purity.  Therefore,  the  Angel  said  to  her : — "  Fear  not,  I  tell 
thee  thou  shalt  be  the  mother  of  God,  and  that  He  that  is  to 
be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  the  Most  High. 
Yet,  0  woman,  fear  not,  for  I  say  to  thee,  that  thou  hast 
found  grace  before  the  Lord."  Therefore  do  we  honor  her,  my 
dearly  beloved  ;  therefore  do  we  rejoice  that  she,  being  such 
as  she  is,  is  still  our  mother  and  regards  us  with  a  mothei^'s 
love  J   and  we  can  look  up  to  her  with  the  unsuspecting 


THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION.  287 

and  all-confiding  love  of  childhood.  0  mother  mine! — 0 
mother  of  all  the  nations  ! — 0  mother  that  kept  the  faith 
in  that  land  of  om-  mothers,  that  through  temptation  and 
suffering  never  lost  her  love  for  thee, — that,  famished  and 
famine-stricken,  never  lost  the  faith, — I  hail  thee  !  As  thou 
art  in  Heaven  to-night,  clothed  with  the  sun  of  divine  justice, 
with  the  moon  reflecting  all  earthly  virtues  beneath  thy  feet, 
and  upon  thy  head  a  crown  of  twelve  stars, — God's  brightest 
gift, — I  hail  thee,  0  mother !  And  in  the  name  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  in  the  name  of  my  Catholic  people,  and  in  the 
name  of  the  far-off  and  loved  land  that  ever  loved  thee,  I 
proclaim  that  '^  thou  art  the  glory  of  Jerusalem,  thou  art  the 
joy  of  Israel,  and  thou  art  the  honor  of  our  people  ! 


CATHOLIC   EDUCATION. 

[A  Lecture   delivered  by  the    Very  Eev.    T.   X.   BurJce,  O.P.,  in  St. 
Peter's  Church,  New  York,  May  23,  1872.] 

I  PEOPOSE  to  speak  to  you,  my  dear  friencls,  tliis  evening-, 
on  tlie  question  of  "Catholic  Education."  My  attention  was 
attracted,  this  morning,  to  a  notice  in  one  of  the  leading 
papers  of  this  citj^,  in  which  the  writer  warned  me,  that,  if  I 
w^as  not  able  to  find  a  solution  for  this  difficult  question  of 
Education,  which  would  be  acceptable  to  all  classes,  I  might 
please  my  co-religionists,  but  that  I  could  not  please  the 
public.  While  1  am  grateful  to  the  writer  of  that  article, 
or  to  any  one  else  that  gives  me  advice,  I  have  to  tell  you, 
my  friends,  and  the  writer  of  that  notice,  and  everybody  else, 
that  I  am  not  come  to  this  country,  nor  have  I  put  on  this 
habit  to  please  either  the  public  or  my  co-religionists,  but  to 
announce  the  truth  of  God,  in  the  name  of  His  holy  Church. 
He  who  accepts  it,  and  believes  it,  and  acts  upon  it,  shall  be 
saved ;  he  that  does  not  choose  to  believe,  Christ,  our  Lord, 
Himself  says  shall  be  condemned.  God  help  us  !  God  pity 
the  people  whose  religious  teachers  have  to  try  and  ^^ please 
their  co-religionists  and  the  iniblic  .'"  Great  Lord !  how  ter- 
rible it  is  when  the  spirit  of  farce  and  of  unreality  finds  its 
way,  even  into  the  mind  of  the  man  who  is  to  proclaim  the 
truth  by  which  alone  his  fellow-men  and  himself  can  be  saved ! 
But  it  was  remarked,  and  traly,  in  the  same  article,  that 
"  this  is  one  of  the  most — perhaps,  the  most, — impoi-tant  ques- 
tions of  the  day."  No  doubt,  it  is.  I  do  not  suppose  I  could 
have  a  more  important  theme  for  the  subject  of  my  thoughts 
or  of  my  words,  than  that  of  Education.  This  is  a  question 
that  comes  home  to  every  man  among  us.  No  man  can  close 
his  mind  against  it.  No  man  can  shut  it  out  from  his  thoughts. 
No  man  in  the  community  can  fold  his  arms  and  say,  "  This 
is  a  question  which  does  not  concern  me,  consequently  upon 
which  I  am  indifierent."  No :  and  why !  Because  every 
man  among  us  is  obliged  to  live  in  society :  that  is  to   say, 


CATHOLIC  EDUCATION.  289 

in  inter-comnuiiiion  with  his  feUow-inen.  Every  man's  hap- 
})iness  or  misery  depends,  in  a  Large  degree,  upon  the  state  of 
society,  in  which  he  lives.  If  the  associations  that  surround 
us  are  good,  and  holy,  and  piu-e  ;  if  our  chihh'en  are  obedient ; 
if  our  servants  are  honest ;  if  our  friends  are  loyal,  and  our 
neighbors  are  peaceable ;  if  the  persons  who  supply  us  with 
the  necessaries  of  life  are  reliable, — how  far  all  these  things 
go  to  smooth  away  all  the  difficulties,  and  annoyances,  and 
anxieties  of  life ! '  And  yet,  all  this  depends  mainly  upon 
education.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  our  children  be  rude,  dis- 
obedient, and  wilful ;  if  those  around  us  be  dishonest,  so  that 
we  must  be  constantly  on  our  guard  against  them  5  if  onr 
friends  be  false,  so  that  we  know  not  upon  whose  word  to 
rely ;  if  every  thing  we  use  and  take  to  clothe  ourselves  be 
bad,  and  adulterated,  or  poistmous ;  how  miserable  all  this 
makes  life !  And  yet,  these  issues,  I  say  again,  depend 
mainly  upon  education.  Therefore,  it  is  a  question  that 
comes  home  to  every  man,  and  from  which  no  man  can  excuse 
himself,  or  plead  indifference  or  unconcern. 

Now,  first  of  all,  my  friends,  consider,  that  the  greatest 
misf(n-tune  that  Almighty  God  can  let  fall  upon  any  man  is 
the  curse  of  utter  ignorance,  or  want  of  education.  The 
Holy  Ghost,  in  the  Scriptures,  expressly  tells  us  that  this 
absence  of  knowledge,  this  absence  of  instruction  and  educa- 
tion, is  the  greatest  curse  that  can  fall  upon  a  man,  because 
it  not  only  unfits  him  for  his  duties  to  God,  and  for  the 
fellowship' of  the  elect  of  God,  and  for  every  Godlike  and 
eternal  purpose,  but  it  also  unfits  him  for  the  society  of  his 
human  kind  ;  and  therefore  the  Scripture  says  so  emphati- 
cally,— "  Man,  when  he  was  in  honor,"  (that  is  to  say,  created 
in  honor,)  "  lost  his  knowledge."  He  had  no  knowledge. 
What  followed  ?  He  was  compared  to  the  senseless  beasts, — 
made  like  to  them.  What  is  it  that  distinguishes  man  from 
the  brute  ?  Is  it  strength  of  limb  ?  No  !  Is  it  gracefulness 
of  form?  No!  Is  it  acute  sensations — a  sense  of  superior 
sight,  or  a  more  intense  and  acute  sense  of  hearing?  No  ! 
In  all  these  things  many  of  the  beasts  that  roam  the  forest 
exceed  us.  We  have  not  the  swiftness  of  the  stag; — we 
have  not  the  strength  of  the  lion  ; — we  have  not  the  beauti- 
ful grace  of  the  antelope  of  the  desert ; — we  have  not  the 
power  to  soar  into  the  upper  air,  like  the  eagle,  who  lifts  him- 
self upon  stronsT  pinions  and  gazes  on  the  sun.     We  have 

13 


290  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

not  the  keen  sense  of  sight  of  many  animals,  nor  the  keen 
sense  of  hearings  of  others.  In  what,  then,  lies  the  differ-. 
ence  and  the  superiority  of  man.  Oh,  my  dear  friends,  it 
lies  in  the  intelligence  that  can  know,  and  the  heart  which, 
gnided  hy  that  intelligence,  is  influenced  to  love  for  intellec- 
tual motives,  and  in  the  will  which  is  supposed  to  preserve 
its  freedom  by  acting  under  the  dominion  of  that  enlightened 
intellect  and  mind.  For,  mark  you,  it  is  not  the  mere  power 
of  knowing  that  distinguishes  man  from  the  brutes,  and 
brings  him  to  the  perfection  of  his  nature.  It  is  the  actual 
presence  of  knowledge.  It  is  not  the  mere  power  of  loving 
that  distinguishes  man  from  the  lower  creatures.  No.  For 
if  that  love  be  excited  by  mere  sensuality, — by  the  mere  ap- 
peal to  the  senses, — it  is  not  the  high  human  love  of  man, 
but  it  is  the  mere  lust  of  desire  and  passion  of  the  brute.  It 
is  not  the  will  that  distinguishes  man  in  the  nobility  of  his 
nature  from  the  brate ;  but  it  is  the  will,  preserving  its  free- 
dom, keeping  itself  free  from  the  slavery  and  dominion  of 
brute  passions,  and  answering  quickly — heroically — to  every 
dictate  of  the  high,  and  holy,  and  enlightened  intelligence 
that  is  in  man.  What  follows  from  this  1  It  follows  that 
if  you  deprive  man  of  intelligence  or  knowledge ; — if  you 
leave  him  in  utter  ignorance,  and  withdraw  education,  you 
thereby  staiwe,  and,  as  far  as  you  can,  annihilate  the  very 
highest  portion  of  the  soul  of  man  j  you  thereby  dwarf  all 
his  spiritual  powers  ;  you  thereby  leave  that  soul,  which  was 
created  to  grow,  and  to  wax  strong,  and  to  be  developed  by 
knowledge, — you  leave  it  in  the  imbecility  and  the  helpless- 
ness of  its  natm-al,  intellectual,  and  spiritual  infancy.  Wliat 
follows  from  this  ?  It  follows  that  the  uneducated,  unin- 
structed,  ignorant,  dwarfed  individual  is  incapable  of  influenc- 
ing the  affections  of  the  heart  with  any  of  the  higher 
motives  of  love.  It  follows  that,  if  that  hieait  of  man  is  ever 
to  love,  it  will  not  love  upon  the  dictate  of  the  intelligence 
guiding  it  to  an  intellectual  object,  but,  like  the  brute  beast 
of  the  field,  it  will  seek  the  gratification  of  all  its  desires  upon 
the  mere  brutal,  coqjoreal  evidence  of  its  senses.  What  fol- 
lows moreover  ?  It  follows  that  the  will  which  was  created  by 
the  Almighty  God  in  freedom,  and  which,  by  the  very  compo- 
sition of  man's  nature,  was  destined  to  exercise  that  freedom 
under  the  dictates  of  intelligence,  is  now  left  mthout  its  proper 
ruler, — an  intelligent,  instructed  intellect ;  and,  therefore,  in 


CATHOLIC  EDUCATION.  291 

tlie  iminstrncted  man,  the  allegiance  of  the  uill — tlie 
dominion  of  the  will — is  transferred  to  the  passions,  to  the 
desires  and  depraved  inclinations  of  man's  lower  nature. 
And  so  we  see  that,  in  the  purely^  and  ntterly  uninstructed 
man,  there  can  be  no  loftiness  of  thought,  no  real  purity  of 
affection  5  nor  can  there  be  any  real  intellectual  action  of  the 
will  of  man.  Therefore,  I  conclude  that  the  greatest  curse 
Almighty  God  can  let  fall  upon  a  man  is  the  curse  of  utter 
ignorance,  unfitting  him  thereby  for  every  purpose  of  God 
and  every  purpose  of  society. 

First,  then,  my  dear  friends,  I  assert  that  want  of  educa- 
tion, or  ignorance,  unfits  a  man  for  his  position,  no  matter 
how  humble  it  be,  in  this  world  and  in  society.  For  all 
human  society  exists  among  men,  and  not  among  inferior 
animals,  because  of  the  existence  in  men  of  intelligence. 
All  human  society  or  intercourse  is  based  upon  intellectual 
conmiunication  ; — thought  meeting  thought ;  intellectual 
sympathy  coiTcsponding  with  the  sympathy  of  others.  But 
the  man  who  is  utterly  uninstracted  5  the  man  who  has 
never  been  taught  to  read  or  w^rite ;  the  man  who  has  never 
been  taught  to  exercise  any  act  of  his  intelligence  ; — the  poor, 
neglected  child  that  we  see  about  our  streets,  growing  up 
Avithout  receiving  any  word  of  instruction, — that  child  grows 
up, — rises  to  manhood  utterly  unfit  to  communicate  with  his 
fellow-men,  for  he  is  utterly  unprepared  for  that  intercom- 
munion of  intelligence  and  intellect  which  is  the  function  of 
society.  What  follows?  He  cannot  be  an  obedient  citizen, 
because  he  cannot  even  apprehend  in  his  mind  the  idea 
of  law.  He  cannot  be  a  prosperous  citizen,  because  he 
can  never  turn  to  any  kind  of  labor  which  would  require 
the  slightest  mental  effort.  In  other  words  he  cannot 
labor  as  a  man.  He  is  condemned  by  his  intellectual 
inibecility  to  labor  merely  with  his  hands.  Mere  brute  force 
distinguishes  his  labor  ;  and  the  moment  you  reduce  a  man  to 
the  degree  and  amount  of  corporeal  strength, — the  moment 
you  remove  from  his  labor  the  application  of  intellect, — that 
moment  he  is  put  in  competition  with  the  beasts  j  and  they 
are  stronger  than  he ;  therefore  he  is  inferior  to  them.  Take  the 
utterly  uninstructed  man:  he  it  is  that  is  the  enemy  of  society. 
He  cnnnot  meet  his  fellow-men  in  any  kind  of  intellectual 
intercommunion.  He  is  shut  out  fnun  all  that  the  past  tells 
him  in  the  histor}^  of  the  world  :  from  all  the  high  present 


292  FA  THEE  B  UREE'S  DISCO  UESES. 

interests  that  are  pressing-  around  liim  :  from  all  Lis  future  he 
is  shut  out  by  his  utter  destitution  of  all  religious  as  well  as 
civil  education.  What  follows  from  this?  Isolated  as  he  is, 
flung  back  upon  his  solitary  self, — no  humanizing  touch,  no 
gentle  impulse,  no  softening  influence  even  of  sorrow  or 
trouble, — no  aspiration  for  something  better  than  tlie  present 
moment, — no  remorse  for  sin, — no  consolation  for  pain, — no 
relief  in  affliction, — nothing  of  all  this  remains  to  him.  An 
isolated,  solitary  man,  such  as  you  or  I  might  be,  if  in  one 
moment,  by  God's  visitation,  all  that  we  have  ever  learned 
should  be  wiped  out  of  our  minds, — all  our  past  lost  to  us, — 
all  the  aspirations  of  the  future  cut  oflf  from  us  ; — such  is  the 
ignorant  man;  and  such  society  recognizes  him  to  be.  If 
there  be  a  man  who  makes  the  State  and  the  government  of 
the  State  to  tremble,  it  is  the  thoroughly  uninstructed  and  un- 
educated man ; — it  is  the  class  neglected  in  early  youth,  and 
cast  aside  and  utterly  uninstructed  and  undeveloped  in  their 
souls,  in  their  hearts,  and  in  their  intellects.  It  is  this  class 
that,  from  time  to  time,  comes  to  the  surface,  in  some  wild 
revolution, — swarming  forth  in  the  streets  of  London,  or  the 
streets  of  Paris,  or  in  the  streets  of  the  great  Continental 
cities  of  Europe; — swamiing  forth,  no  one  knows  from 
whence;  coming  forth  from  their  cellars;  coming  forth  from 
out  the  dark  places  of  the  city ;  wdth  fury  unreasoning  in 
their  eyes,  and  the  cries  of  demons  upon  their  lips.  These 
are  the  men  that  have  dyed  their  hands  red  in  the  best  blood 
of  Europe,  w-hether  it  came  from  the  throne  or  the  altar.  It 
is  the  thoroughly  uninstructed,  uneducated,  neglected  child 
of  society  that  rises  in  God's  vengeance  against  the  world 
and  the  society  that  neglected  him ; — that  pays  them  back 
with  bitter  interest  for  the  neglect  of  his  soul  in  his  early 
youth.  Therefore  it  is  that  statesmen  and  philosophers  cry 
out,  in  this  our  day,  ''  We  must  educate  the  people."  And 
the  great  cry  is  education.     Quite  true  ! 

And  if  the  world  demands  education,  much  more  does  the 
Catholic  Church.  She  is  the  true  mother,  not  merely  of  the 
masses,  as  they  are  called,  but  of  each  and  every  individual 
soul  among  them.  She  it  is  to  whose  hands  God  has  com- 
mitted the  eternal  interests  of  man  :  and  therefore  it  is  with 
a  zeal  far  greater  than  that  of  the  world,  the  Catholic  Church 
applies  herself  to  the  subject  and  question  of  education.  Why 
so  ?     Because  if,  as  we  have  seen,  all  human  society  is  based 


CA  THOLIC  ED  UCA  TTOX.  293 

upon  knowledge — npon  inter-communion  of  intellect, — of 
■which  the  uninstructed  man  is  incapable, — the  society  wliich 
is  called  the  Church — the  supernatural  and  divine  society, — 
is  also  much  more  emphatically  founded  upon  the  principles 
of  knowledge.  What  is  the  foundation,  the  bond,  the  link, 
the  life  and  soul  of  the  Catholic  Church  ?  I  answer — faith. 
Faith  in  God.  Faith  in  every  word  that  God  has  revealed. 
Faith,  stronger  than  any  human  principle  of  belief,  opinion, 
or  conviction.  Faith,  not  only  bowing  down  before  God,  but 
apprehending  what  God  speaks ;  clasping  that  truth  to  the 
mind,  and  informino;"  the  intellisrence  with  its  liHit,  admittini^ 
it  as  a  moral  inHuence  into  every  action  and  every  motive  of 
a  man's  life.  It  is  the  soul  and  life  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
Faith  !  What  is  faith  ?  It  is  an  act  of  the  intelligence 
whereby  we  know  and  believe  all  that  God  has  revealed. 
Faith,  then,  is  knowledge  ?  Most  certainlv !  Is  it  an  act 
of  the  will  ?  No ;  not  directly — not  essentiall}^ — not  imme- 
diately. It  is,  directly,  essential^,  and  immediately,  an  act  of 
the  intellect,  and  not  of  the  w^ill.  It  is  the  intellect  that  is 
the  subject  wherein  faith  resides.  The  will  may  command 
that  intellect  to  bow  down  and  believe ;  but  the  essential 
act  of  faith  is  an  act  of  the  intelligence,  receiving  light  and 
accepting  it  5  and  that  light  is  knowledge ;  therefore  the 
Catholic  Church  cannot  exist  without  knowledge. 

More  than  this,  the  world  has  many  duties  which  it  imposes 
upon  man,  which  require  no  education,  little  or  nothing  of 
instruction ; — for  instance,  the  duty  of  labor,  where  one  man, 
educated  and  instructed,  taking  his  position  at  the  head  of 
the  works,  or  the  engineering,  is  able  to  direct  ten  thousand 
men  :  there,  among  these  ten  thousand,  no  great  amount  of 
instruction  or  education  is  necessary  or  required.  But  the 
Catholic  Church,  on  the  other  hand,  imposes  a  great  many 
tasks  upon  her  children,  every  one  of  them  recjuiring  not  only 
intellect,  l»ut  highly  trained  and  well-educated  intellect.  Look 
through  the  duties  that  the  Church  imposes  upon  us.  Every 
one  of  these  duties  is  intellectual.  The  Ciiurcli  commands 
us  to  pray.  I'layer  involves  a  knowdedge  of  God  ;  a  know- 
ledge of  our  own  wants,  and  a  knowledge  how  to  elevate  our 
souls  to  God  ;  for  prayer  is  an  elevation  of  the  soul  ;  and  the 
uninstructed  soul  cannot  elevate  inself  to  the  npprehensi(m  of 
a  pure  spiritual  being.  The  Church  commands  us  to  prepare 
for  confession.     Tliat  involves  a  knowledge  of  the  law  of 


294  FATHER  BURKWS  DISCOURSES. 

God,  in  order  that  we  may  examine  ourselvea,  and  sec  wherein 
we  liave  failed  ; — tliat  involves  a  knowledge  of  ourselves,  in 
order  to  stnd}^  ourselves  tliat  we  may  discover  om'  sins.  Pre- 
paration for  confession  involves  a  knowledge  of  God's  claim 
to  our  love,  in  order  that  we  may  find  motives  for  our  sorrow. 
Tlie  Oluircli  commands  us  to  approach  the  Holy  Communion. 
That  approach' involves  the  high  intellectual  act  whereby  we 
are  able  with  heart  and  with  mind  to  realize  the  unseen,  in- 
visil)le,  yet  present  God,  and  to  receive  Him.  We  see  the 
strong  act  of  the  intellect  realizing  the  unseen,  and  trans- 
ending  the  evidence  of  the  senses,  so  as  to  make  that 
unseen,  invisible  presence  act  upon  us  more  strongly, — 
agitate  us  more  violently, — than  the  strongest  emotion  that 
the  evidence  of  the  senses  can  give.  The  Church  commands 
ns  to  understand  what  her  Sacraments  are ;  and  that  is  a 
high  intellectual  act,  whereby  we  recognize  God's  dealings 
with  man  through  the  agency  of  material  things.  In  a  word, 
every  single  duty  the  Catholic  Church  imposes  is  of  the 
highest  intellectual  character. 

Again  :  though  the  world  demands  knowledge  and  educa- 
tion as  the  very  first  elements  in  its  society,  still  the  motive- 
power  that  the  world  proposes  to  every  man  is  self-interest ; 
the  appeal  that  the  world  makes  through  the  thousand  chan- 
nels through  which  it  comes  to  us,  is  all  an  appeal  to  self. 
All  the  professions,  all  the  mercantile  operations,  all  the 
duties  and  pleasures  of  life,  appeal  to  the  individual  to  seek 
his  own  self-aggrandizement — his  own  self-indulgence; — to 
make  life  happy  and  pleasant  to  himself.  Not  so  with  the 
Church  ;  faith  is  her  foundation  •  and  the  motive  she  puts 
before  every  man  is  not  self,  but  charity.  Just  as  self  con- 
centrates the  heart  of  man^  narrow's  his  intellectual  and 
spiritual  horizon,  makes  him  turn  in  upon  his  own  contracted 
being,  and  so  narrows  every  intellectual  and  spiritual  power 
within  him ;  charity,  on  the  other  hand,  which  is  the  motive 
propounded  by  the  Church,  enlarges  and  expands  the  heart 
of  man,  enlarges  the  horizon  of  his  intellectual  view,  and  lifts 
him  up  above  himself.  Like  a  man  climbing  the  mountain 
side,  every  foot  that  he  ascends  he  beholds  the  horizon  en- 
laro-incr  and  widenino-  around  him.  So,  also,  everv  Catholic, 
the  more  he  enters  into  the  spirit  of  his  holy  religion,  the 
more  does  he  perceive  the  intellectual,  moral,  and  spiritual 
horizon  enlarging, — taking  in  more  interests  and  manifesting 


CATHOLIC  EDUCATION.  p95 

more  beauties  of  a  spiritual  order.  So  it  is  witli  the  Clmrch 
of  God.  She  depends  more  upon  education  than  even  the 
worhl,  both  upon  the  fundamental  principle  of  faith,  which  is 
an  act  of  the  intellect,  and  the  nnjtive  of  action,  which  is 
charity,  which  is  an  expansicm  of  the  intellect;  and  also  upon 
the  nature  of  the  duties  which  she  imposes  upon  her  children, 
and  w^hich  are  all  of  the  highest  intellectual  character. 

And  yet,  my  fiiends,  strange  to  say,  among  the  many 
oddities  of  this  age  of  ours,  there  is  a  singular  delusion  which 
has  taken  hold  of  the  Protestant  mind,  that  the  Catholic 
Church  is  opjiosed  to  education  :  that  she  is  anxious  to  keep 
the  people  ignorant;  that  she  is  afraid  to  let  them  read; 
that  she  does  not  like  to  see  schools  opened,  and  that  she  is 
afraid  of  enlightenment.  They  argue  so  blindly  and  yet  so 
complacently,  that  when  you  find  a  good-natured  and  g(jod- 
humored  Protestant  man  or  woman  calmly  talking  about 
these  things,  it  is  difficult  to  keep  from  laughing; — it  is 
easy  enough  to  keep  your  temper,  but  very  hai'd  to  keep 
from  lauifiiino-.  For  instance :  talking  about  Spain  or 
Mexico;  "calmly  and  complacently  telling  how  the  whole 
country  is  to  become  Protestant  as  soon  as  the  whole  people 
''learn  how  to  read,  you  know  !"  and  ''begin  to  reason,  you 
know  !"  "  If  we  can  only  get  good  schools  amongst  them." 
Then  they  Ijclieve  the  infernal  lies  told  them  ;  for  instance, 
the  lie  is  "told  that,  in  Rome,  since  Victor  Emmanuel  entered 
it,  thirty-six  schools  had  been  opened, — taking  it  foi  granted 
there  ^\•ere  no  schools  there  before  !  I  lived  twelve  years  in 
Rome,  under  the  Pope,  and  there  was  a  school  in  almost 
every  street:  not  a  child  in  Rome  was  uneducated.  Nay 
more  ;  the  Christian  Brothers  and  the  Nuns  went  out  in  the 
streets  of  Rome,  regularly,  every  mt)rning,  and  wxMit  from 
house  to  house,  and  up  stairs  in  the  tenement  houses,  among 
the  poor  people,  picking  up  the  children ;  or  if  they  found  a 
little  boy  running  in  the  streets,  he  was  taken  quietly  to 
school.  They  went  out  regularly  to  pick  up  the  children  out 
of  the  streets.  And  yet  these  men  who  are  interested  in  blind- 
ing the  foolish  Protestant  mind,  come  with  such  language 
as  this;  for  it  is  the  po})ular  idea,  which  they  wish  to  per- 
})etuate,  that  the  Catholic  Church  is  alVaid  of  education.  No, 
mv  fiiends:  the  Catholic  Church  is  afraid  of  one  inan  more 
tlian  any  other,  and  that  is  the  man  who  is  thoroughly  igno- 
rant.-   The  man  who  brings  disgrace  upon  his  religion  is  the 


29Q  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

tlioronglily  ignorant  man,  if  he  is  a  professed  Catliolic ;  and 
the  man  impossible  to  make  a  Cathohc  of,  is  the  thoroiiglily 
ignorant  Protestant.  The  more  ignorant  he  is,  tlie  less  chance 
there  is  of  making  a  Catholic  of  him.  The  truth  is,  in  this 
da}''  of  ours,  the  great  conversions  made  to  the  Catholic  Church, 
in  this  country  and  Europe,  from  Protestantism,  all  take  place 
among  the  most  enlightened,  and  highly  educated,  and  cul- 
tivated people.  Why  ?  Because  the  more  the  Protestant 
reads, — the  more  he  knows, — the  nearer  he  approaches 
to  the  Catholic  Church,  the  true  fountain-head  and  source  of 
education.  Why  is  this  accusation  brought  against  the  Cath- 
olic Church,  that  she  is  afraid  of  this  and  afraid  of  that?  I 
will  tell  you.  Because  she  insists,  in  the  teeth  of  the  world, 
and  in  spite  of  the  world's  pride,  and  ignorance,  and  bloated 
self-sufficiency, — the  Catholic  Church  insists,  as  she  has 
insisted  for  eighteen  hundred  and  seventy-two  years,  on 
saying  :  "  I  know  how  to  teao'h  ;  you  do  not ;  you  must  come 
to  me  ; — you  cannot  live  without  me.  Do  not  imagine  you 
can  live  by  yourselves,  or  you  will  fall  back  into  the  slough 
of  your  own  impurity  and  corraption."  The  world  does  not 
like  to  hear  this.  The  Catholic  Church  insists  that  she  alone 
understands  what  education  means :  the  world  does  not  like 
to  hear  that.  But  I  come  here  to-night  to  prove  it,  not  only 
to  you,  my  Catholic  friends,  my  co-religionists,  but,  if  there 
be  one  here  who  is  not  a  Catholic,  to  him  also ;  and  so  to 
please  the  public  if  they  choose  to  be  pleased.  But  if  my 
co-religionists  or  the  public  choose  to  be  displeased,  the  truth 
is  there,  personified  in  the  Church ;  and  that  truth  will  re- 
main after  the  co-religionists  and  the  indignant  public  are 
all  swept  away. 

There  are  three  systems  of  education  that  are  before  us 
in  this  country.  There  are  three  classes  of  men  that  are 
talking  about  education  ;  namely, — those  who  go  for  what 
is  called  a  thoroughly  secular  system ;  those  who  go  for  a 
denominational  system,  as  far  as  it  is  Protestant ;  and  the 
Catholic,  who  goes  in  for  Catholic  education.  Let  us  exam- 
ine the  three.  There  is  a  large  class,  in  England  and  in 
Auierica,  who  assume  the  tone  of  the  philosopher,  and  who, 
with  great  moral  dignity  and  infinite  presumption,  lay  down 
the  law  for  their  neighbors,  and  tell  them  : — ''  There  is  no  use 
quarrelling,  my  dear  Ba])tists  and  3Iethodists, — and  you, 
pestering    Catholics,    on   the    other   handj  you    want   your 


CATHOLIC  education:  207 

schools-,  eveiy  one  wants  his  own  school;  let  us  adopt  a 
beautiful  system  of  education,  that  will  take  in  every  one, 
and  leave  your  religious  differences  among  yourselves :  let 
us  do  away  with  religicm  altogether.  The  child  has  a  great 
deal  to  be  taught  independent  of  religion.  There  is  history, 
philosophy,  geography,  geology,  engineering,  steam  works  ; 
all  these  things  can  be  taught'^  without  any  reference  to  God 
at  all.  So  lei:  us  do  this  :  let  us  adopt  non-sectarian  educa- 
tion." Now,  my  fiiends,  these  are  two  big  words:  non-sec- 
tarian,— a  word  of  five  syllables, — and  education, — nine 
syllables  altogether.  Now,  when  people  adopt  great,  big 
words  in  this  way,  you  should  always  be  on  your  guard 
against  them ;  because  if  1  wanted  to  palm  oft"  something  not 
true,  I  would  not  set  it  out  in  plain  English,  but  try  to 
involve  it  in  big  words;  for,  as  the  man  in  the  story  says, — 
''  If  it  is  not  sense,  at  least,  it  is  Greek."  So,  these  two 
words,  non-sectarian  education,  if  you  wish  to  know  what 
they  mean, — turn  it  into  English — non-sectarian  education, 
in  good  old  Saxon  English,  means  teaching  without  God: 
five  syllables.  Teaching  your  children,  fathers  and  mothers, 
and  educating  them  without  God  !  Not  a  word  about  God,  no 
more  than  if  God  did  not  exist !  He  can  V)e  spoken  of  in  the 
family  ;  He  may  be  preached  in  the  temple  or  in  the  church  ; 
but  there  is  one'^establishment  in  the  land  where  God  must  not 
come  in  ;  where  God  must  not  be  mentioned  ;  and  that  estab- 
lishment is  the  place  where  the  young  are  to  receive  the 
education  that  is  to  determine  their  life,  bc>th  for  time  and 
eternity  : — the  place  wdiere  the  young  are  to  receive  that  edu- 
cation upon  which  eternity  depends.  The  question  of  heaven 
or  hell  for  every  child  there  depends  upon  that  education ;  and 
that  education"^  must  be  given  without  one  mention  of  the 
name  of  the  God  of  heaven  ! 

Try  to  let  it  enter  into  your  minds  what  this  amiable  sys- 
tem is.  This  beautiful  system  is  founded  upon  two  principles 
— those  two  i)rinciples  lie  at  the  bottom  of  it — namely: — 
'Jlie  first  principle  is,  that  man  can  attain  perfection  without 
the  aid  of  Jesus  Christ  at  all.  This  system  of  education  does 
not  believe  in  Christ.  It  is  the  ^lasonic  princi})le  ;  the  prin- 
cij)le  of  the  Freemasons  over  again; — namely,  that  God  has 
made  us  so  that,  without  any  help  from  Him  at  all,  without 
any  shadow  of  grace,  or  sacrament,  or  religion,  we  can  work 
out  perfection  in  ourselves ;  therefore,  we  are  independent  of 


208  FATHER  BUBKE'S  DISCOUBSES. 

God.  It  is  the  last  result  of  human  pride ;  and  hence  the 
secular  education  which  docs  not  take  cognizance  of  God 
says,  we  can  bring  up  these  children  to  be  what  they  ought 
to*^  be,  without  teaching  them  any  thing  about  God.  The 
second  principle  upon  which  it  is  based  is,  that  the  end  of  hu- 
man life,  under  the  Christian  dispensation,  is  not  what  Christ 
our  Lord,  or  St.  Paul,  supposed  it  be,  but  something  else. 
The  Scripture  says,  that  the  end  of  the  Christian's  purposes, 
in  this  life,  should  be  to  incorporate  himself  with  the  Lord 
Jesns  Christ,  and  to  grow  into  the  fulness  of  his  age  and  his 
manhood  in  Christ ;  to  put  on  the  Lord,  the  unity,  the  love, 
the  generosity,  and  every  virtue  of  our  divine  Lord  and 
Saviour.  This  is  to  be  the  end  of.  the  Christian  man ;  the 
purpose  of  his  life,  on  which  all  depends.  Now,  these  prin- 
ciples are  expressly  denied  on  the  part  of  those  who  teach 
Avithout  God.  Can  they  teach  without  God — the  Almighty 
God,  who  has  them  in  tlie  hollow  of  his  band  'I  The  princi- 
ple is  absurd  in  itself.  To  teacli  human  sciences  without 
God,  is  an  impossibility.  For  instance,  can  you  teacli 
historv  wdtliout  God.  The  very  first  passage  of  history 
savs  :— "  In  the  beginning,  God  created  the  heavens  and  the 
earth : "  and,  therefore,  in  this  system  of  education,  the  pro- 
fessor of  history,  the  teacher,  must  say  :  "  My  dear  children, 
I  am  going  to  teach  you  history ;  but  I  must  not  begin 
at  the  beginning;  for  there  we  find  God,  and  He  is  not 
allowed  in  the  school !  "  Can  you  teach  philosophy  without 
God  1  Philosophy  is  defined  to  be  the  pursuit  after  wisdom. 
It  is  the  science  that  traces  effects  to  their  causes;  and  the 
philosopher  proceeds  from  the  existence  of  the  first  cause  ; 
and  that  first  cause  is  God ;  therefore,  the  philosophy  that 
excludes  God  must  begin  with  the  second  cause;  just  as  if  a 
man  wanted  to  teach  a  little  boy  how  to  cast  up  sums,  and 
lie  said — "  We  will  begin  with  number  t^vo ;  there  is  no 
number  one."  The  child  would  turn  round  and  say  : — "  Is 
not  number  two  a  multiplication  of  number  one  ? — how  can 
there  be  a  number  two  unless  there  is  a  number  one  to  be 
multiplied  ?  "  Can  a  man  teach  the  alphabet  and  leave  out 
the  first  letter  A,  and  say,  let  us  begin  with  the  second  letter 
B  f  Such  is  the  attempt  to  teach  philoso])hy  or  history  with- 
out God.  Can  they  teach  geology  without  God?  Can  they 
exclude  from  their  disquisitions  upon  the  earth,  and  the  eai-th's 
surface,  and  the  soil  of  the  earth, — can  they  exclude  the 


CATHOLIC  EDUCATION.  299 

Creator's  hand  ?  They  attempt  to  do  it ;  but  in  their  very 
attempt  they  preach  their  infidelity.  Hence,  no  man  can 
teach  ge<dog"v  without  being-  either  a  profound  and  pious 
believer  in  llevelation,  or  an  avowed  and  open  Infidel.  In 
a  word,  not  one  of  these  human  sciences  is  there  that  does  not, 
in  its  ultimate  result  and  analysis,  fall  back  upon  the  first 
truth — the  fountain  of  all  truth — the  cause  of  all  certainty  j 
— and  that  is  God. 

But,  putting  all  these  considerations  aside,  let  us  suppose 
we  gave  our  children  to  these  men  to  instruct  them ;  tliey 
say,  the  parents  can  teach,  at  home,  any  form  of  religion 
they  like.  Let  us  suppose  we  give  our  children  to  the  in- 
struction of  these  men.  Do  they  know  how  to  educate  them  ?• 
They  do  not  know  what  the  word  education  means.  What 
does  it  mean  ?  It  means,  in  its  very  etymology,  to  bring 
forth,  to  develop.,  to  bring  out  what  is  in  the  mind.  That 
little  child  of  seven  3'ears  is  the  father  of  the  man.  It  is 
only  seven  years  of  age ;  but  it  is  the  father  of  the  man 
that  will  be,  in  twenty  years  time.  Now,  to  educate  and 
T>iing  out  in  that  child  every  faculty,  every  power  of  his  soul 
that  he  will  require  for  the  exercise  of  his  manhood  to-morrow; 
that  is  the  true  meaning  of  the  word  education.  In  the  human 
soul  there  are  two  distinct  s^^stems  of  powers,  both  necessary 
for'the  man,  both  acting  upon  and  influencing  his  life.  First 
of  all,  is  the  intelligence  of  a  man  ,•  he  must  receive  educa- 
tion. But  there  is,  together  with  that  pure  intellect  or 
intelligence,  there  is  the  heart  that  must  also  be  educated ; 
there  are  the  afiections  ;  there  is  the  will ;  and  as  knowledge 
is  necessar\^  for  the  intellect,  divine  grace  is  necessary  for  the 
heart  and  for  the  will.  If  you  give  to  your  child  every  form 
of  human  knowledge,  and  pour  into  him  ideas  in  abundance, 
and  develop,  and  bring  forth  every  faculty  of  his  intellect, 
and  let  nothing  be  hid  from  him  in  the  way  of  knowledge, 
but  do  not  mind  his  heart,  and  do  not  educate  his  afiections ; 
how  is  he  to  subdue  his  passions  ?  Do  not  speak  to  him  of 
his  moral  duties,  which  are  to  be  the  sinews  of  his  life,  and 
do  not  attempt  at  all  to  strengthen,  and  teach  the  will  to  bow 
to  the  intellect ;  do  not  speak  to  him  of  his  duties,  nor  the 
things  that  he  must  practise ;  what  will  you  have  at  the  end 
of  the  education  ?  An  intellectual  monster.  Fancy  a  little 
child,  five  or  six  years  old.  Su{)pose  all  the  growth  was 
turned  into  his  head,  and  the  rest  of  his  body  remained  fixed  j 


300  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

in  a  few  years  you  would  have  a  monster ;  you  would  have  a 
little  child  with  the  head  of  a  giant  upon  him.  Do  not  attempt 
to  purify  the  aflections,  and  you  ^\ill  develop,  indeed,  the 
intellect,  but  the  other  powers  will  be  in  such  disproportion 
that  you  have  made  an  intellectual  monster.  You  have  made 
something  worse, — you  have  made  a  moral  monster !  It  is 
quite  true,  knowledge  is  power.  You  have  given  that  man 
})ower  by  giving  him  knowledge.  But  you  have  not  given 
him  a  single  principle  to  purify  and  influence,  or  restrain 
that  power,  so  as  to  use  it  properly.  Therefore,  you  have 
made  a  moral  monster !  And,  now,  that  man  is  all  the  more 
wicked,  and  all  the  more  heartless,  and  all  the  more  remorse- 
less and  impure,  in  precisely  the  same  proportion  as  you 
succeed  in  making  him  cultured  and  learned.  This  is  the 
issue  of  this  far-famed  system  of  ^^non-sectarian"  education. 

There  is  another  system  of  education,  and  it  is  that  of  our 
separated  brethren  in  this  land,  who  say  that  they  are  quite 
as  indignant  and  as  horrified  as  we  are  at  the  idea  of  an 
utterly  godless  education :  that  they  do  not  go  in  for  a  god- 
less education  •  on  the  contrary,  they  mean  to  have  Grod 
everywhere.  They  are  trying  now  to  j)ut  Him  in  the  Ameri- 
can Constitution,  if  they  can  succeed.  They  also  build  their 
schools;  and  they  think  that  Catholics  are  the  most  unreas- 
onable people  in  the  world  because  we  do  not  consent  to  send 
our  children  to  them.  They  say, — '^  What  objection  can  you 
have  to  the  Bible  ?  do  you  not  believe  in  it  as  well  as  we  do?'' 
They  say : — "  Cannot  you  send  your  children  to  us  on  the 
platform  of  our  common  Christianity  f  Tliere  are  a  great 
many  things  that  we  believe  together."  They  say  : — "  We 
^^ill  not  ask  to  teach  the  children  one  iota  against  the 
Catholic  worship ;  nor  ask  them  to  participate  in  any  re- 
ligious teaching,  only  as  far  as  they  hold  that  general  truth 
in  common  with  our  Protestant  children.''  So,  they  ask  us  to 
s-tand  with  them  ^'on  the  ]}latform  of  a  common  Christianitij.^' 
Well,  my  friends,  a  great  many  Catholics  are  taken  by  this ; 
and  think  it  is  very  unreasonable,  and  that  it  is  almost 
bigotry  in  the  Catholic  Church  to  refuse  it.  Well,  let  us 
examine  what  the  '^  platform  of  our  common  Christkmifi/ " 
allows.  What  does  it  mean '?  Here  is  a  Protestant  school, 
earned  out  on  Protestant  principles.  Let  us  suppose  that  they 
shut  up  the  Protestant  Bible,  and  put  it  aside,  but  carry  on 
the  school  on  Protestant  principles  as  far  as  they  go  in 


CATHOLIC  EDUCATION.  301 

common  with  the  Catholic  faith.  The  Catholic  is  invited 
to  share  the  school  with  them.  First  of  all,  my  friends,  how 
far  do  we  go  together  ?  I  do  not  know  if  there  be  any  Pro- 
testants here ;  if  there  be,  I  do  not  wish  to  say  a  harsh,  dis- 
respectful, or  unpleasant  word ;  but  let  us  consider  how  far 
we  can  go  together, — the  Protestants  and  Catholics  !  Well, 
they  answer,  first  of  all,  "  We  believe  in  the  existence  of 
God."  Thanks  be  to  God,  we  do  ! — the  Protestants  and 
Catholics  are  united  on  that  j  both  believe  that  there  is  a  God 
above  us.  The  next  great  dogma  of  Christianity  is — *'  We 
believe  in  the  divinity  of  Christ."  Stop,  my  friends !  I  am 
afraid  that  we  must  shake  hands  and  part.  I  am  afraid  the 
platfonn  of  ^'  our  common  Christianity  "  is  too  nan'ow.  Are 
you  aware  that  it  is  not  necessary  for  a  Protestant  to  believe 
in  the  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ?  A  great  many  Protestants 
do  believe  it,  most  piously  and  most  fervently  j  a  great  many 
Protestants  believe  in  it  as  we  do.  It  is  most  emphatically 
true,  however,  that  there  are  clergymen  of  the  Church  of 
England  preaching  in  Protestant  churches  throughout  Eng- 
land, who  deny  the  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ;  and  it  is  em- 
phatically true  that  at  this  very  moment  the  whole  Protestant 
world  is  trying  to  get  rid  of  the  Athanasian  creed,  because 
that  creed  says  whoever  does  not  believe  in  the  divinity  of 
Jesus  Christ  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  Heaven. 
Therefore,  I  nmst  fling  back  this  assertion.  I  cannot  grant 
it.  I  wish  to  God  I  could.  No,  my  friends  :  if,  to-morrow, 
the  Anglican  clergy  who  have  written  against  the  divinity  of 
our  Lord,  and  against  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
against  all  forms  of  religion,  in  works  that  are  printed,  asking 
all  the  pious  Protestants  of  England  to  believe  in  their  ideas  ; 
— Professors  of  England,  enjoying  their  yearly  salaries ; 
preaching  religion  (God  save  the  mark  !) — if  one  of  these  men 
were  to  appear  on  trial  to-morrow',  the  Queen  and  her  Coun- 
cil would  decide  that  the  divinity  of  Christ  is  not  a  necessary 
doctrine.  You  go  one  step  beyond  the  existence  of  God,  and 
the  platform  is  overthrown ;  and  the  Catholic  and  the  Pro- 
testant child  can  no  longer  stand  side  by  side.  Into  that 
Protestant  school  goes  a  Pnjtestant  child,  to  be  taught  his 
religion, — to  be  taught  all  that  his  religion  requires  him  to 
learn  ;  but  the  Catholic  child,  bel'ore  he  can  go  in  to  receive 
his  instnu-tion,  nnist  leave  behind  him,  outside  the  door,  his 
belief  in  the  Sacraments,  Confession,  the  Holy  Communion, 


302  FA  THEE  B  UEEE'S  DISCO  UESES. 

prayers  for  the  dead,  tbe  Blessed  Virgin,  all  the  Saints,  the 
duty  oi  self-examination  and  of  prayer ;  in  a  word,  all  the 
specific  duties,  all  the  principles  of  the  Catholic  religion  must 
he  forgotten  and  ignored  by  that  Catholic  child  before  he  can 
come  down  low  enough  to  take  a  seat  on  the  platform  with  his 
little  Protestant  brother.  Is  it  any  -wonder  that  we  should 
not  like  to  do  it?  If  you  shoukl  live  in  a  beautiful  house, 
well  furnished,  with  every  convenience ;  and  your  neighbor 
was  living  in  a  damp  cellar,  where  it  was  cokl  and  dark  j 
and  if  he  asked  you  to  come  down  and  live  with  him,  you 
would  answer :  ''I  am  much  obliged,  my  dear  friend ;  but  I 
j^refer  not."  If  you  had  a  good  dinner  of  roast  beef,  and 
your  neighbor  had  only  a  salt  herring ;  and  he  requested  you 
to  eat  with  him,  you  would  answer :  "  No ;  I  cannot  do  it." 
And  so  when  they  ask  us  to  come  down  from  the  heights  of 
our  Catholic  knowledge ;  to  go  out  of  the  atmosphere  of  the 
Sacraments  and  of  the  divine  presence  of  Jesus  Christ,  the 
atmosphere  of  responsibility  to  God,  realized  and  asserted  in 
Confession  and  Communion  j  and  from  the  intercessory 
prayer  of  Mary,  the  Mother  of  Jesus  Christ  j  and  of  the 
Saints ;  and  ask  us  to  forget  our  dead  5  ask  us  to  give  up 
every  thing  that  a  Catholic  holds  dear,  that  we  may  have  the 
privilege  of  standing  upon  the  miserable  platform  of  "  our 
common  Christianity,"  with  our  Protestant  brethren  5  we  must 
say  that  we  are  much  obliged  to  them,  but  beg  to  decline. 
I  say  it  is  a  meagre  meal  that  they  oifer  us ;  but  inasmuch 
as  we  have  something  a  great  deal  better  and  more  luxurious 
at  home,  we  beg  leave  to  be  excused ;  and  if  they  choose  to 
come  to  us,  let  them  step  up  to  our  Catholic  schools  and 
find  all  that  the}^  can  find  in  then-  Protestant  schools,  and  a 
great  deal  more ;  but  if  they  choose  not  to  do  it,  we  cannot 
help  it.     We  cannot  go  down  to  them ;  never  ! 

Now,  on  the  principle  of  Catholic  education,  the  Catholic 
Church  says :  ^'  I  know  how  to  educate ;  there  is  no  single 
power  in  that  child's  soul,  not  a  single  faculty,  either  intel- 
lectual, moral,  or  spiritual,  that  I  will  not  bring  forth  into 
its  full  bloom.  That  child  requires  knowledge  for  its  intel- 
ligence 5  and  every  fonn  of  human  knowledge  5  so  that  we 
can  compete  with  every  other  teacher  in  the  world."  Some 
time  ago,  there  was  a  Commission  issued  by  the  British 
Government  to  examine  the  schools  of  Ireland.  They 
thought  to  convict  our  Catholic  schools  of  inefficiency  5  at 


CAT  no  Lie  EDUCATION.  303 

least,  they  tliong-lit  that  we  paid  so  much  attention  to  religion, 
that  we  did  not  give  the  children  enough  of  secular  know- 
ledge. Their  Connnissioners  went  through  the  country,  and 
solemnly  reported^  in  the  House  of  Commons,  that  they 
found  that  no  schools  in  Ireland  impai-ted  so  much  secular 
knowledge  as  the  Christian  Brothers'  and  the  Nuns'.  They 
had  to  say  it.  The  teachers  in  the  other  schools  declared 
that  secular  knowledge  was  their  first  olyect,  and  religion,  if 
admitted  at  all,  was  only  a  secondary  thing.  The  Christian 
Brothers  said — Religion  first,  and  secular  knowledge  after- 
wards. The  other  schools  admitted  a  miserable  modicum  of 
relio-ion,  in  order  to  induce  the  child  to  receive  secular 
education  ;  hut  the  Christian  Brothers  admitted  secular  know- 
ledge, in  order  to  induce  in  the  child's  heart  and  soul  religi(m. 
And  yet,  in  the  rivalry,  the  Catholic  Church  was  so  C(mi- 
pletely  ahead, — even  in  imparting  secular  knowledge, — that 
our  enemies  on  this  question  of  secular  education  were 
obliged  to  acknowledge  that  there  is  nothing  at  all  in  Ireland 
like  the  schools  of  the  Christian  Brothers  and  of  the  Nuns. 

The  Church  says,  ^^  Let  no  fountain  of  human  knowledge 
be  denied.  Let  every  light  which  human  knowledge  and 
science  can  bring  be  thrown  upon  that  intelligence.  _  I  am 
not  afraid  of  it.  I  desire  that  the  child  may  have  intelli- 
gence. The  more  I  can  flood  that  intellect  with  the  light, 
the  surer  guarantee  I  have  that  that  man  will  be  a  true  and 
fervent,  because  an  eminently  intellectual.  Catholic."  But, 
the  Church  adds  :  ''  That  child's  heart  requires  to  be  instruct- 
ed ;  that  child's  affections  require  to  be  trained ;  that  child's 
passions  must  be  purified;  that  child  must  be  made  familiar 
with  the  things  and  joys  of  Heaven  before  he  becomes  famil- 
iar with  the 'sights  and  joys  of  earth."  Therefore  she  takes 
the  child  before  he  comes  to  the  age  of  reason,  and  makes 
Ijs  voung  eyes  to  be  captivated  with  the  images  and  sweet- 
ness and  spiritual  beauties  of  Jesus  and  Mary ;  and  draws 
and  makes  that  young  heart  full  of  love  for  the  Redeemer 
before  the  appeal  of  i)assion  excites  the  earthly  love,  before 
the  ^'mvstery  of  iniquity"  that  is  in  the  world  is  revealed 
to  his  reason!  Therefore,  she  draws  that  child  and  familiar- 
izes his  mind  with  the  words  of  faith,  and  the  language  of 
Heaven  and  prayer;  intermingling  with  his  anmsements  and 
studies  an  eleuient  of  devotion  and  of  religion.  Because 
she  recognizes,  that,  as  much  as  the  world  stands  in  need  of 


304  FA  THER  B  UB  RE'S  DISCO  UBSES. 

intellectnal  men,  far,  far  more  does  it  stand  in  need  of  honest 
men,  pure  men,  liig-h-minded  men.  Because  she  knows  that, 
if  knowledge  is  not  intermingled  with  grace,  knowledge 
without  grace  becomes  a  curse,  instead  of  a  blessing,  li  was 
the  curse  of  the  world  that  it  was  so  intellectual  in  the  era 
of  Augustus;  because,  says  St.  Paul,  "They  refused  to 
admit  God  into  their  knowledge ;  and  God  gave  them  up  to 
a  reprobate  sense."  What  follows  ?  Every  faculty  of  the 
mind,  of  the  affections,  as  well  as  of  the  intellect,  is  brought 
out  in  that  Catholic  child ;  so  that  the  whole  soul  is  devel- 
oped, and  has  fair  play,  and  is  brought  forth  under  the 
system  of  Catholic  Education. 

"  Which  of  these  three  systems,  think  you,  is  the  most  neces- 
sary for  the  world?  Ah  !  my  friends,  1  was  asked  to  please 
the  public  as  well  as  my  co-religionists.  I  wish  to  God  I 
could  please  the  public  with  such  a  doctrine  as  this,  and 
propound  the  truth  and  say  to  the  public ;  to  every  father  and 
mother  in  America,  Protestant  and  Catholic : — When  God 
gave  you  that  child,  it  was  only  that,  by  your  action  and  by 
your  education,  that  child  might  grow  into  the  resemblance 
of  Jesus  Christ ;  it  was  only  that  Christ,  the  Son  of  God, 
might  be  nmlti plied  in  men  that  men  are  bom  at  all.  What 
do  you  imagine  we  come  into  this  world  fori  To  become 
rich  ?  It  is  hard  for  the  rich  man  to  be  saved.  To  become 
great  and  wondrous  before  the  world's  eyes  ?  Oh,  this  great- 
ness is  like  the  mist  which  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun  dispel. 
No.  God  made  us  for  eternity ;  and  oiu"  eternity  depends 
upon  our  bringing  out  in  our  hearts,  in  our  afiections,  in  the 
interest  and  harmony  of  our  lives,  in  the  simple  faith  and 
belief  of  our  souls,' in  every  highest  virtue, — bringing  out 
within  us,  and  clothing  ourselves  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

And,  now,  I  ask  again,  which  of  the  three  systems  of  edu- 
cation is  likely  to  do  this?  Would  to  God  that  I  could 
please  the  public  of  America  when  I  preach  Jesus  Christ  and 
Him  alone.  Now,  sm-ely,  it  is  to  our  schools  we  can  apply 
the  words  of  Him  who  said,  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come 
unto  j\Ie."  And  if  the  public  are  not  pleased  when  tliey  hear 
His  name,  when  they  hear  how  they  are  to  implant  Him  in 
their  children's  lives, — all  I  can  do  is  to  pray  for  the  public, 
that  the  Almighty  God  may  open  their  blind  eyes  and  let  in 
the  pure  light  into  their  darkened  intellects. 

1  know,  my  friends,  that  it  is  hard  upon  the   Catholics  of 


CATHOLIC  EDV CATION.  805 

this  conntrv  to  l)e  constantly  called  npon  to  build  one  set  of 
schools  for  Catholics,  and  to  be  obliged  as  citizens  to  build 
another  set  and  furnish  them  for  persons  wealthier  or  better 
off  than  themselves.'  It  is  a  hardship ;  and  I  do  not  think 
the  State — with  great  respect  to  the  authorities — ought  to 
call  upon  you  to  do  it.  But  still,  great  as  the  hardship  is, 
when  you  consider  that  your  children  receive  in  the  Catholic 
schools  what  they  cannot  receive  elsewhere  j  when  you  con- 
sider that  your  own  hopes  for  Heaven  are  bound  up  in  these 
children,  and  that  the  education  they  need  they  can  receive 
only  in  the  Catholic  school,  and  nowhere  else,  you  must  put 
up  with  this  disadvantage,  and  make  this  sacrifice,  among 
many  others,  to  gain  Heaven.  For  it  is  wiitten :  ^^  The 
kingdom  of  Heaven  suffers  violence,  and  the  violent  shall 
bear  it  away." 


THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST. 

\_A  Sermon  delivered  by  Very  Bev.  T.  N.  Burlce,  O.P.,  in  St.  Michael's 
Church,  New  York,  June  2,  1872.  ] 

Dearly  Beloved  Bretheen  :  In  tLis  wonderful  age  of 
ours,  there  is  notliing-  tliat  creates  in  the  thinking  mind  so 
much  astonishment  and  wonder  as  the  fact  that  the  Catholic 
Church  stands  before  the  w^orld  in  all  tlie  grandeur  of  lier 
truthfulness,  and  that  the  intellect  of  this  age  of  ours  seems 
inca[!able  of  apprehending  her  claims,  or  of  acknowledging  her 
grandeur.  Men  in  every  walk  of  life  are  in  pursuit  of  the  true 
and  the  beHutiful.  The  poet  seeks  it  in  his  verse,  the  philo- 
sopher in  his  speculations,  the  statesman  in  his  legislation,  the 
artist  ill  the  exhibition  of  his  art.  And,  wdiile  all  men  pro- 
fess thus  to  pursue  the  true  and  the  beautiful,  they  wilfully 
shut  their  eyes  against  that  which  is  the  truest  and  most  beau- 
tiful of  all  things  upon  the  earth, — the  Holy  Catholic  Church 
of  Jesus  Christ.  I  do  not  know  whether  there  be  any  Pro- 
testants among  you  here  to-day  5  I  believe  there  are  not. 
But  wiiether  tliey  be  here,  or  whether  they  be  absent,  I  weep, 
iu  my  heart  and  soul,  over  their  blindness  and  their  folly, — 
that  they  cannot  recognize  the  only  religion  which  is  logical, 
because  it  is  true; — the  ouly  Church  which  can  afford  to 
stand  before  the  whole  \\oiid,  and  bear  the  shock  of  every 
mind  and  the  criticism  of  every  intellect,  because  she  comes 
from  God  ? 

Now  amid  the  many  features  of  divine  beauty  and  grandeur 
and  harmony  that  the  Almighty  God  has  set  upon  the  face 
of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  first  and  the  greatest  of  her 
mysteries, — the  greatest  of  her  beauties,  both  intellectual 
and  spiritual, — is  the  awful  presence  of  Jesus  Christ,  who 
makes  Himself,  really  and  truly,  here,  an  abiding  and 
present  God  in  the  Blessed  Eucharist.  I  have  chosen  this 
presence  as  the  subject  and  theme  of- my  observations  to  you 
to-day,  because  we  are  yet  celebrating  (within  the  octave) 
the  festival  of  Corpus  Christi:     We  are  yet  in  spirit,  with 


THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST.  307 

our  holy  motlicr,  tlie  Church,  at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  ador- 
ing, ill  au  espt'cial  manner,  Ilini  who  is  here  present  at  all 
times ;  and  rejoicing,  with  a  peculiar  joy,  for  that  grace, 
surpassing  all  giaces,  which  the  Almighty  God  has  given  to 
His  Church,  in  the  abiding  presence  of  Jesus  Christ  among 
us. 

Most  of  3'ou,  I  dare  say,  know  that  what  I  propose  to  you 
to-day  is  to  consider  that  presence  as  the  fulfilment  of  the 
designs  of  God,  and  the  fulfilment  of  all  the  w^ants  of  man. 
If  I  can  show  you  what  these  designs  are,  and  what  these 
wants  are,  and  if  I  can  suiiiciently  indicate  to  you  that  they 
are  fulfilled  only  in  the  Blessed  Eucharist — then,  my  brethren, 
I  conclude  without  the  slightest  hesitation,  that,  in  no  form  of 
religion, — in  no  Church, — can  the  designs,  of  God  and  the 
wants  of  man  meet  their  fulfilment,  save  in  that  one  Church, 
in  -that  one  holy  religion,  in  which  Christ  is  substantiated, 
under  the  fomi  of  bread  and  w^ine  in  the  Blessed  Eucharist. 
In  order  to  do  this,  I  have  to  ask  you  to  reflect  with  me  what 
are  the  designs  of  God  upon  man. 

There  are  three  remarkable  and  magnificent  epochs  that 
mark  the  action  of  the  Almighty  God  upon  His  creature,  man. 
The  first  of  these  was  the  moment  of  creation,  when  God 
made  man.  The  second  was  the  time  of  redemption,  w-hen 
God,  becoming  incarnate,  offered  Himself  as  the  victim  for 
man.  The  third  epoch  was  the  institution  of  the  Blessed 
Sacrament,  when  God  left  himself  to  be  the  food  of  His  cliil- 
dren,  and  to  be  made  one  with  them  by  the  highest  and  the 
most  intimate  communion  of  a  present  God,  through  all  ages. 
To  each  of  these  three  epochs  I  shall  invite  your  attention 
when  I  attempt  to  explain  to  you  the  designs  of  God. 

In  the  first  t)f  these, — that  is  to  say  in  the  act  of  creation, 
— we  find  God  stamping  His  image  on  man,  in  order  that  in 
man  He  might  see  the  likeness  of  Himself.  In  the  second 
of  these  epochs, — that  of  redemption,  w^e  find  God  assuming 
and  absorbing  our  human  nature  into  Himself  j  so  that  God 
and  man  became  one  and  the  same  divine  person,  in  order 
that  God  might  see  no  longer  ihe  image  of  Himself  in  man  ; 
but  that  He  might  S€'e  Himself  actually  and  truly  in  man. 
In  the  third  of  these  epochs,  the  institution  of  the  Blessed 
►Sacrajuent,  we  have  God  coming  home  to  every  individual; 
entering  into  our  hearts  and  souls;  bringing  all  that  He  is 
and  all  that  He  has  to  each  and  every  man  among  us ;  that 


308  FATHER  BUEKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

the  Man-God,  in  whom  God  and  man  were  united,  might  be 
visible  before  the  Father's  eyes  in  the  heart,  in  the  soul,  in 
the  life  of  every  man.     The  Creation,  therefore,  was  a  design 
of  mercy,  which  produced  only  an  image  or  likeness;  the 
Redemption  was  a  higher  design  of  mercy,  which  produced 
God  in  man.     The  Holy  Communion  was  the  consummation 
of  these  designs  of  mercy,  which  propagated  that  God  until 
He  Mas  made  present  in  every  man.     Behold  the  designs  of 
God  !     First,  then,  is  the  creation.     God,  in  the  beginning, 
created  all  things,  heaven  and  earth.     He  made  the  earth, 
with  all  its  beauty.     He  made  the  firmament  of  heaven,  with 
all  its  wonderful  hannony  and  order.     At  His  creative  word, 
— "y?«f/' — let  it  be, — light  sprang  forth  from  darkness ;  order 
came  forth  in  silent  beauty  from  chaos  and  confusion ;  every 
star  in  heaven  took  its  place  in  the  firmament  of  God ;  the 
sun  blazed  forth  in  his  noonday  light  and  splendor  ;  the  moon 
took  up  her  reflected  light,  and  iUumined  with  her  silver  rays 
the  shades  of  night.     All  the  spheres  of  God  began  their  re- 
volution through  space,  to  that  exquisite  hannony    of   the 
Divine  commandment  and  the  Divine  law.     And  they  all 
surrounded  that  spot  of  creation  w^hich  was  earth,  and  des- 
tined to  be  the  habitation  of  man.     This  eai'th  the  Almighty 
God  clothed  with  its  manifold  forms  of  beauty.     He  gave  to 
it  the  revolving  seasons — the  freshness  of  the  Spring — the 
deep  shade  of  the  Summer, — the  fruitful  overteeming  of  the 
Autumn ; — and  every  season  took  up  its  strain  of  joy,  abun- 
dance and  delight,  at  the  command  of  God.     But  all  these 
things,  every  form  of  life  that  existed,  existed  by  the  one 
word,  "^af,"  of  the  Almighty  God.     But  now,  when  the 
heavens  above  are  prepared  j  now,  when  the  spheres  are  all 
in  their  places  5  now,  when  every  creature  of  God  has  receiv- 
ed its  commission,  its  faculty  of   life,  light,  splendor,  and 
beauty; — the  whole  earth,  heaven,  and  the  firmament  are 
made :  yet  no  image  of  God  is  there ;  for  there  is  no  intelli- 
gence there  ;  and  God  is  knowledge  :  there  is  no  power  of  love 
there ;  and  God  is  the  highest  and  most  intimate  love.    There 
is  no  freedom  there,  but  only  the  necessity  of  nature's  law 
and  instinct.     The  whole  world, — in  all  its  beauty,  in  all  its 
hai-mony, — still  wants  its  soul :  for  that  soul,  wherever  it  is  to 
be,  must  be  something  like  to  God.     Finally,  when  all  things 
were  prepared,  God  took  of  the  slime  of  the  earth,  and  made 
and  fashioned  with  His  hands  a  new  creature, — a  creature 


THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST.  309 

that  was  to  rise  and  to  uplift  Lis  eyes  and  behold  the  snn  ;  a 
creature  whose  every  form  of  material  existence  was  to  remain 
perfectly  disiinct  from  all  other  forms  of  creation.  Into  this 
creature's  face  the  Almighty  God  breathed  His  own  image 
and  likeness,  in  an  imperishable  spirit,  an  immortal  soul. 
Before  He  made  this  soul,  the  muTor  of  Himself,  He  took 
tliought  with  Himself,  and  said  no  longer — -'Let  it  be  !  "  but 
— counselling  with  His  own  Divine  wisdom.  He  said  :  "Let 
Us  nuike  man  to  Our  own  image  and  likeness."  And  unto 
His  own  image  and  likeness,  therefore.  He  made  him,  for 
He  breathed  upon  him  the  inspiration  of  spiritual  life, — a 
living  soul  into  the  inanimate  clay ; — and  upon  that  soul  He 
stamped  His  own  divine  image.  He  gave  to  that  soul  the 
liglit  of  an  intelligence  capable  of  comprehending  the  power 
of  love,  capable  of  sei-ving  Him  and  loving  Him.  He 
gave  to  that  soul  the  faculty  of  freedom,  that  by  no  necessary 
law,  by  no  iron  instinct,  was  this  new  creature  to  act ;  but 
with  judgment,  and  with  thought,  and  with  intellectual  in- 
quiry. He  was  to  act  freely,  and  every  action  of  his  life  was 
to  flo-\v  from  the  fountain  of  unfettered  freedom,  like  the 
actions  of  tlie  Almighty  God  Himself,  whose  very  essence  is 
eternal  freedom. 

Thus  was  man  created.  Behold  the  image  of  God  stamped 
upon  him  !  Oh,  how^  grand,  how  magnificent  was  this  crea- 
ture !  The  theory  has  been  mooted  in  our  day : — "  Was  it 
worth  God's  while  to  create  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  and  un- 
told firmaments  which  no  eye  of  man  has  yet  discovered ; — 
those  stars  far  away  exceeding  our  earth  in  their  magnitude, 
in  their  splendor,  in  their  attractive  power  and  beauty  ; — was 
it  uorth  God's  while," — the  astronomer  asks, — "for  the  sake 
f»f  giving  light  to  one  of  the  smallest  of  the  planets,  to  create 
so  many  others  to  revolve  around  her  in  space  f "  Yes, 
I  answer,  it  was  worth  God's  while;  for  one  man,  if  He 
had  created  but  one; — it  was  w-orth  His  while  to  create 
all  these  matei-ial  beauties;  because  man  alone, — that  one 
man, — w^mld  reflect  in  his  soul  the  image  of  God — the 
uncreated  and  sjiiritual  h)veliness  of  his  Maker.  How 
grand  was  this  first  man  when  he  arose  from  the  gi'een 
mound  out  of  which  the  Lord  created  him  !  when  he  opened 
his  eyes  and  beheld  before  him,  shrouded  in  some  dazzling 
form  of  material  beauty,  the  presence  of  God  !  He  opened 
Lis  eyes;  and  seeing  tliis  figure  of  light  and  transparency 


310  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

before  liim,  heaiing  from  his  lips  the  harmony  of  his 
Creatoi^'s  voice,  he  knelt  in  adoration.  He  alone,  of  all  the 
creatures  in  the  world,  was  able  to  appreciate  the  infinite 
beauty  of  the  Maker ;  and  springing  to  that  Maker,  with  all 
the  energy  of  his  spirit,  he  bowed  down  before  Him,  and 
offered  the  sacrifice  of  intellectnal  praise.  He  alone,  of  all 
the  creatures  of  God,  was  able  to  appreciate  the  infinite 
eternity  of  His  existence ;  His  omnipotence  ;  His  infinite 
goodness,  grandeur,  and  beauty.  He  alone,  of  all  Grod's 
creatures,  was  capable  of  appreciating  with  soul ; — that,  out 
of  the  appreciation  of  his  mind,  his  heart  was  moved  to  love, 
and  he  strained  towards  his  God  with  every  higher  aspiration 
and  affection  of  his  spirit.  He  alone,  of  all  the  creatures  of 
God,  was  able  to  say,  out  of  the  resources  of  a  free  and  un- 
shackled will :  "  i  ^dll  love  Thee  !  I  will  serve  Thee,  0 
God!  for  Thou  alone  art  worthy  of  all  love  and  all  service 
for  all  time ! "  So,  freely  and  deliberately  weighing  the 
excellencies  of  God  against  all  created  beauty ;  calculating 
with  the  power  of  his  intelligence  the  claims  of  God  upon 
him, — he  acknowledged  these  claims;  he  acknowledged  in 
his  intellect  the  infinite  beauty  of  God ;  because  of  his  intel- 
tectual  appreciation,  he  decided  freely  to  sei-ve  God  in  his 
life.  That  free  decision  from  the  intellect  was  a  godlike  act, 
of  which  no  otlier  creature  upon  this  earth  was  capable. 
Therefore,  the  Almighty  God  appealed  to  that  act  as  the  test 
and  proof  of  man. 

Thus  AVe  see  in  the  beginning  that  Almighty  God  stamped 
His  image  upon  His  people.  And  in  this  He  showed  the 
design  of  His  creation  ; — the  greatness  of  His  mercy  and  of 
His  love.  He  had  prepared  all  things  for  man.  He  had 
made  all  things  for  him.  All  things  pointed  to  him  ;  all 
nature,  newly  created  in  all  its  beauty,  still  cried  out  for  that 
crowning  beauty,  the  beauty  of  intelligence,  the  beauty  of  the 
power  of  love,  the  grandeur  of  freedom.  And  man  was  cre- 
ated as  the  very  apex,  the  very  climax  of  God's  creation  ; 
the  crown  and  the  perfection  of  all.  Behold  the  mercy  of 
God  !  God  might  have  left  this  world  in  all  its  material,  yet 
unintellectual  beauty.  He  might  have  left  all  His  creatures 
to  enjoy  the  life  that  He  gave  them,  and  to  fulfil  the  limited 
and  necessary  sphere  of  their  duties, — and  yet  never  have 
sent  intelligence  and  love  and  freedom  upon  them.  But  no; 
God  wished  to  behold  Himself  in  His  creation.     He  wished 


THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST.  311 

to  be  al)le  to  look  down  from  Heaven  and  see  His  ima£]fe  in 
His  creation.  God  wished  that  all  nature  chould  hold  up 
the  mirror  of  its  reseml>lance  to  Him  in  man.  God's  design 
was  that,  wherever  the  child  of  man  existed,  there  He, 
looking  down,  should  behold  His  oAvn  image  in  the  depths 
of  that  pure  intelligence,  in  the  depths  of  those  pure  affec- 
tions, in  that  unshackled,  magnificent,  imperial  freedom  of 
man's  will. 

This  was  the  first  design.  Far  greater  was  the  second 
design  of  God's  mercy.  God  knew  and  foreknew,  from  all 
eternity,  that  man,  by  the  abuse  of  his  free  will,  would  turn 
against  his  God.  The  Almighty  God  knew  and  foreknew,  as 
if  it  were  present  before  His  eyes, — for  there  is  no  past,  no 
future  to  the  eyes  of  God ;  all  things  are  present  to  Him ; — 
He  knew  and  foreknew  that,  in  the  day  when  He  placed 
Himself  and  His  own  divine  perfection  and  His  own  claims 
on  one  side,  and  the  devil  made  the  appeal  to  the  passions 
and  pride  of  man  on  the  other  side, — He  knew  that  His  free 
creature  would  decide  against  Him, — would  abandon  Him, — 
tell  Him  to  begone,  and  take  all  His  gifts  with  Him,  and 
would  clutch  the  animal  gnd  base  gratifications  of  a  sensual 
pride.  God  knew  this.  He  knew  that,  in  that  act,  man  was 
destined  to  cloud  his  clear  intelligence,  so  that  it  would  no 
longer  reflect  the  image  of  God ; — that  man  was  destined,  in 
that  act,  to  pollute  liis  pure  affections,  so  that  they  should  n(j 
longer  reflect  the  image  of  God  in  love.  God  foresaw  and 
foreknew  that  man  was  destined,  in  that  act  of  rebellion,  to 
fetter  and  enslave  his  fi-ee  will,  and  to  make  it  no  longer  a 
seiwant  and  minister  of  his  intelligence,  but  of  his  passions 
and  of  his  desires.  In  a  word,  God  saw  His  own  image 
broken  and  spoiled  in  man  by  the  sin  of  Adam. 

Then,  my  dearly  beloved,  in  these  eternal  designs  of  love, 
God  said,  in  His  own  decrees,  from  all  eternity:  '^My  imasfe 
is  gone ;  My  likeness  is  shattered ;  My  spirit  is  no  longer 
among  them ;  and  I  must  provide  a  remedy  gi-eater  than  the 
evil.  I  will  send — in  the  second  plan  of  My  mercy  and  the 
design  of  My  love, — I  will  make  no  longer  a  renewed  imaoe 
in  man ;  I  will  not  restore  what  they  have  broken  and  de- 
stroyed ;  but  I  will  send  My  Eternal  Son.  He,  the  reality, 
whom  no  evil  can  touch,  whom  no  temptation  can  conquer,— 
I  will  put  Him  into  man  ;  and  I  shall  behold,  no  longer  the 
fallen  man,  but  I  shall  behold,  in  the  redeemed  man,  Myself 


312  FATHER  BUEEE'S  DISCOURSES. 

restored  in  tlie  person  of  Jesus  Christ."  0  my  beloved 
brethren !  does  not  tlie  infinite  mercy, — the  all-extending, 
all-grasping  love  of  God, — come  in  here  ?  He  might,  in  His 
designs  of  mercy,  have  restored  His  broken  image  in  man. 
He  "migbt  have'  given  man  the  power  of  repentance.  He 
might,  m  the  largeness  of  His  mercy,  wipe  away  sin,  undo 
that  most  fatal  work,  and  give  back  to  man,  in  the  unclouded 
intelligence,  and  in  the  pure  heart,  and  in  the  free  will,  all 
that  nian  had  lost  of  the  divine  image  by  sin.  He  might 
have  done  this  without  at  all  descending  Himself;  without 
at  all  coming  down  from  the  throne  of  His  greatness  and 
uncreated  majesty  and  glory.  But  no !  God  resolves  to  do 
more  for  the  reparation  of  man  than  man  had  ever  done  in  the 
ruin  of  himself  by  sin.  God  resolves  to  send  His  only  begot- 
ten Son,  who,  incaraate  by  the  Holy  Ghost  of  the  Virgin 
Mary,  was  made  man.  The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  bom  of 
the  Yiro'in  Mary:  an  infant  wails  upon  His  Mother's  bosom: 
an  Infinite  God,  looking  down  from  heaven,  beholds  not  only 
His  own  image  in  man,  but  beholds  Himself  in  Him,  His 
only  begotten,  coequal,  and  consubstantial  Son.  Therefore, 
He  is  no  longer  the  image,  but  tlie  Man-God.  He  is  no 
longer  the  likeness  of  God,  but  the  reality  of  God, — accord- 
ing'to  the  Scriptures  of  old :  "  I  have  said  ye  are  gods,  and 
all  of  you  the  sons  of  the  Most  High." 

God  made  us  to  be  His  servants.  Wlien  man  refused  to 
be  a  servant,  God,  in  His  mercy,  lifted  him  up,  and  made 
him  a  son.  Instead  of  taking  the  children  of  men  and  bind- 
ing us  together,  as  a  bundle  of  faggots,  and  flinging  us  into 
hell,  and  in  His  greatness  and  g^ory  forgetting  us  all ; — 
instead  of  doing  th^s,  when  God  saw  that  we  w^re  fallen,  and 
that  not  even  His  image  remained  in  man,  in  the  destruction 
of  grace,  and  in  the  partial  destraction  of  the  perfection  of 
his  nature, — He  sent  His  only  begotten  Son ;  so  that  the 
creature,  instead  of  being  punished  by  eternal  ruin  and  ban- 
ishment^ is  raised  by  redemption,  and  made  a  son  of  God. 
'^  To  those  who  received  Him,  He  gave  the  power  to  become 
the  sons  of  God."  Can  you  comprehend  this  mercy  ?  Do 
you  ever  reflect  upon  it?  "^  I  sinned  in  Adam.  Sinning  thus 
in  Adam,  I  deseiwed  to  be  cast  away  from  God,  and  never  to 
see  His  face  again.  I  sinned  in  Adam.  Sinning  thus,  I  lost 
all  that  God  gave  me  of  grace,  and  a  great  deal  that  He  gave 
me  of  natm-e.     Instead  of  flinging  me  aside,  Almighty  God 


THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST.  313 

comes  down  from  Heaven,  becomes  my  brother,  and  says : — 
"  Brother,  all  that  I  am  in  Heaven, — the  Son  of  God, — I  am 
willing  to  make  yon  by  adoption.  jNIy  Father  is  willing  to 
take  you  in  as  My  younger  brother.  My  father  is  willing  to 
acknowledge  that  all  I  am  by  nature  you  are  by  the  grace  of 
adoption."  So,  in  the  w*ork  of  redemption, — in  the  second 
design  of  God, — we  rise  to  the  grandeur  and  dignity  of  a 
more  sublime  position  than  in  Adam.  We  become  the 
younger  brethren  of  God  Himself.  We  become  members  of 
the  household  and  of  the  family  of  Jesus  Christ. 

But,  you  will  say  to  me,  what  connection  has  this  with 
the  Blessed  Eucharist  ?  You  engage  to  show  us  that  the 
designs  of  God  were  fulfilled  in  the  Real  Presence,  You 
speak  of  the  design  of  creation, — of  the  design  of  redemption; 
— but  what  have  these  two  designs  to  do  with  the  institution 
of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  ?  the  transubstanriation  of  Christ 
upon  the  altar  ?  It  has  this  :  The  first  design  of  creation 
was  intended  by  the  Almighty  God  to  be,  that  man,  preser\'- 
ing  the  graces  in  which  he  was  created, — prescribing  the  image 
in  which  he  was  made, — should  remain  faithful  to  God,  free 
from  sin,  the  conqueror  of  his  own  passions,  and  of  every 
temptation  that  could  come  upon  him ;  and  so,  living  in  the 
light  of  purity,  in  the  fervor  of  love,  in  the  strength  of  free- 
dom, that  he  might  journey  on  through  happiness  and  peace 
upon  the  earth,  until  he  attained  to  the  fulfilment  of  his  per- 
fection, and  laid  hold  of  the  eternal  crown  of  glory.  This 
was  the  design  of  God.  This  was  marred  by  sin.  Man  sinned ; 
and  the  design  of  God  could  no  longer  be  fulfilled.  He 
let  evil  into  his  soul ;  he  destroyed  the  integrity  of  his  natiu'ej 
he  violated  the  virginity  of  his  soulj  he  came  to  the  know- 
ledge of  evil ;  and,  with  the  knowledge,  he  came  to  the  love 
of  evil.  Understand  this  well ;  it  is  a  deep  thought ;  it  enters 
into  the  designs  of  God.  Every  indi^•idual  man  born  into 
this  world  was  bom  a  sinner.  Defilement  was  up<.»n  him  ; 
the  seeds  of  future  evil  were  in  him.  All  that  was  necessary 
for  him  was  to  let  that  infant  grow  into  a  youth;  and,  of 
necessity,  he  became  an  individual  sinner,  because  the  root 
of  evil  was  in  him.  The  seeds  of  con-uption  were  implanted 
in  him;  his  blood  was  impure  and  defiled.  All  that  was 
necessary  was  the  dawn  of  reason  and  the  awakening  of  pas- 
sion. The  former  made  him  an  infidel ;  the  latter  made  him 
a  debauched,  licentious,  and  impure  sinner.     This  was  the 

14 


314  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

consequence  of  Adam's  sin.  Therefore,  my  dearly  beloved, 
it  was  not  onl\'  our  nature  that  sinned  in  Adam,  but  every 
individual  of  our  nature  sinned  in  liim,  save  and  except  the 
Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  Put  her  aside,  and  at  once  the  whole 
race  of  human  beings  are  individual  sinners  in  Adam  : — not 
actual  sinners,  but  individually  tainted  by  sin.  This,  to  be 
sure,  is  one  of  those  things  that  people  overlook.  They  do  not 
understand  that  the  curse  of  Adam  came  down  to  each  and 
every  one  of  us, — this  sin  of  Adam,  which  was  written  upon 
our  foreheads  in  characters  of  defilement.  When  it  was  a 
question  of  remedying  that  evil,  it  was  necessary  that  the 
Almighty  God  should  exercise  His  mercy  individually  upon 
each  and  eveiy  one  of  us. 

Two  things,  therefore,  were  tainted  by  the  sin  of  Adam, — 
the  nature  and  the  individual.  The  nature,  common  to  all, 
was  tainted;  man's  nature  was  broken;  man's  nature  was 
corrupted ;  that  which  was  common  to  us  all, — the  universal 
nature, — was  defiled  and  injured  by  Adam's  sin  ;  and  in  that 
defilement  and  injury  ever^^  single,  individual  child  of  Adam 
participated  ;  so  that  every  one  of  us,  personally  and  indivi- 
dually, was  defiled  in  our  first  parent.  Now,  it  follows  from 
this,  that  when  the  Almighty  God,  in  His  second  design  of 
mercy, — namely  the  Redemption, — when  lie  resolved  to  undo 
all  the  evil  that  Adam  had  done, — when  He  resolved  to  bind 
up  and  heal  the  wound  that  Adam  had  made, — it  was  neces- 
sary that  God  should  take  thought  for  the  nature  that  was 
corrupted,  and  for  the  individuals  that  had  fallen  in  Adam. 
If  He  had  taken  thought  only  for  the  nature,  it  would  not  be 
sufficient  for  us ;  for  our  nature  may  be  restored,  and,  unless 
that  restoring  power  come  home  to  us,  we  ourselves  may 
remain  in  our  misery.  God  provided  a  remedy  for  the  nature, 
— the  universal  nature, — in  the  Incarnation.  He  sent  His 
own  Divine  Son,  who  took  our  nature — our  human  natm'e, — 
who  took  a  human  bod}^,  a  human  soul,  human  feelings,  a 
human  heart,  a  human  mind,  human  intellect,  human  wnll ; 
— every  thing  that  belonged  to  the  nature  of  man,  Christ,  our 
Lord,  took  ;  but  He  did  not  take  the  individual.  Mark  it 
well !  You  Catholics  ought  to  know  the  theology  of  your 
divine  religion ; — mark  it  well.  Christ,  our  Lord,  took  every 
thing  that  was  in  man  except  the  individuality, — personality. 
That  He  did  not  touch.  He  took  our  nature,  and  absorbed 
it  into  His  own  person ;  but  He  never  took  a  human  person. 


THK  BLESSED  EUCHARIST.  :^15 

No  man  could  yay  of  our  Lord,  pointiug  to  Him  :  "He  is  an 
individual  man."  Ko  !  He  was  a  divine  man.  When  He 
spoke,  His  words  were  those,  not  of  man,  but  of  God  ;  because 
the  person  who  spoke  was  divine.  If  He  suft'ered,  it  was  the 
suffering,  not  of  man,  but  of  God ;  because  the  person  was 
divine.  This  was  necessary  5  because,  unless  the  Divine 
Person, — that  is  to  say,  God, — consented  to  suffer  and  to  die, 
tlie  sin  of  man's  nature  could  never  have  been  wiped  out. 
Wheu,  therefore,  tlie  Eternal  Father,  in  His  love  for  mankind, 
sent  'His  co-Eternal  Son  upon  the  earth,  He,  in  that  act  of 
Incarnation  of  the  Second  Person  of  the  Blessed  Trinity,  pro- 
vided a  remedy  for  the  evil  of  Adam's  nature — for  the  human 
nature  that  was  spoiled.  Again  I  assert  that  Christ,  our  Lord, 
never  took  the  human  personality ;  that  He  left  the  indivi- 
duality of  every  man  to  himself;  that  He  did  not  take  the 
individuality  or  personality  of  the  man  ;  but  only  the  nature. 
In  order  to  remedy  the  nature  it  w^as  necessary,  in  the  designs 
of  God,  that  God  should  unite  Himself  with  that  nature. 
Mark  this, — that  God  should  unite  Himself  with  man's 
nature  was  necessary  in  the  designs  of  God,  in  order  that 
man's  nature  might  be  purified  and  restored.  Was  this 
necessary  to  the  designs  of  Godf  Absolutely  necessary. 
The  Virgin  Mary, — on  that  day  in  Nazareth,  when  Gabriel 
stood  before  her, — represented  the  human  race.  She  repre- 
sented human  nature,  in  her  alone  unfallen ;  and  to  that  all- 
pure  and  unfallen  one  the  Angel  said:  "Mary,  a  child 
shall  be  bom  to  you,  and  He  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  the 
Most  High  God."  Mary  paused ;  and  until  Mary,  of  her 
own  free  will,  answered  :  "  Behold  the  handmaid  of  God  ;  bo 
this  thing  done  unto  me  according  to  thy  word ; "  until 
Mary  said  that  word,  the  mystery  of  the  Incarnation  was 
suspended,  and  man's  redemption  was  left  hanging  upon  the 
will  of  one  woman.  But,  when  Mary  said  the  word,  human 
nature,  distinct  from  man's  personality,  was  assumed  by  God. 
If  Almighty  God  had  not  consented  to  unite  Himself  with 
(»ur  nature,'  that  nature  never  could  have  been  redeemed. 
But,  thus  we  see  that  one  great  portion  of  Adam's  evil  was 
remedied  in  the  Incarnation, — namely^  that  our  nature  was 
purified. 

But  what  about  the  individual?  It  is  not  so  much 
the  puiification  of  my  nature — our  common  nature — that 
concerns  me.     T[  am  an  individual  man, — the  son  of  my 


aiG  FA  THER  B  UR  KE'S  DISCO  URSES. 

motlier;  I  am  a  human  person:  Christ,  our  Lord,  had 
nothing  to  say  to  the  human  person  in  the  Incarnation. 
How  then  am  I, — a  human  person, — to  enter  into  the  graces 
and  purity  of  God  ?  Ob,  behold,  my  brethren,  how  the  two 
previous  designs  culminate  !  Christ,  our  Lord,  multiplied 
Himself.  Clirist,  our  Lord,  changed  bread  and  wine  into  His 
own  divine  body  and  blood.  Christ,  our  Lord,  made  Him- 
self present  in  the  form  of  man's  food.  That  food  is  broken. 
Every  child  that  cries  for  that  divine  bread  shall  have  it. 
Tiiat  human  individual,  that  personal  creature  is  united  to 
God  ;  and  the  individual  is  sanctified  as  the  nature  was  sanc- 
tified. The  nature  could  not  be  redeemed  or  sanctified  except 
by  union  with  God :  the  individual  is  sanctified  b}^  the  same 
means — union  with  God  in  the  blessed  Eucharist.  Thus^ 
then,  we  see  how  the  design  of  creation, — spoiled  in  Adam, 
— spoiled  not  only  in  the  nature,  but  in  the  individual, — is 
made  perfect  in  Jesus  Christ,  as  far  as  regards  the  mystery 
of  the  Incarnation.  Well,  therefore,  He  says  :  ^'  Unless  you 
eat  of  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of  Man,  and  dnnk  His  blood,  you 
shall  not  have  life  in  you."  He  was  speaking  to  the  indi- 
vidual. He  did  not  say,  "You  cannot  have  life  in  your 
nature."  He  put  life  into  human  nature  by  taking  that 
nature  upon  Himself.  There  was  life  there  already, — life 
eternal, — in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ.  But  He  was  speak- 
ing to  individuals,  and  He  said  to  them :  "  Unless  you 
bring  Me  home  unto  yourselves,  individually,  you  cannot 
have  life  in  you;  for  I  am  the  life; — life  indeed ; — -life  eternal, 
that  came  down  from  heaven;  and  unless  you  eat  of  My 
flesh  and  drink  of  My  blood,  you  cannot  have  life  in  you. 
But,  if  you  do  this, — if  you  eat  of  this  flesh  and  drink  of  this 
blood,  then  you  shall  abide  in  Me  and  I  in  you." 

Behold,  therefore,  dearly  beloved,  how  the  mystery  of  the 
Incarnation,  affecting,  as  it  did,  our  nature,  is  brought  home 
in  its  wonderful  expansion  to  each  human  person  in  the 
Holy  Communion.  Oh,  how  sad  and  terrible — how  dreadful 
is  the  thought  that  the  devil  has  succeeded  the  second  time 
in  destroying  us  !  First,  he  destroyed  our  nature  in  Adam ; 
now  he  succeeds  in  destroying  the  person  in  heresy,  in 
Protestantism.  He  came  and  whispered, — "Christ  is  not  in 
the  Blessed  Eucharist !  He  is  not  there  ! "  He  cut  oft^ — by 
that  denial  of  Protestantism  of  the  Real  Presence — the  last 
great  design  of  God,  in  which  the  creation  and  the  redemption 


THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST.  317 

were  t<>  hv  made  perfect  in  tlieir  remedy  and  brought  home  to 
everv  individual  man.  Suppose,  my  children,  that  some 
dreadful  epdemic  came  in  among  you,— some  fearful  irruption 
of  Asiatic  cholera  -.—that  a  sailor  landed  from  a  ship  in  New 
York  with  the  cholera,  and  from  him  it  spread  through  the 
eitv  ; — we  would  look  upon  that  man  as  the  origin  of  the 
evil,  because  he  brought  it,  ae  Adam  brought  evil  and  sin 
and  misery  intothis  world.  Then  suppose  some  great  physi- 
cian arose, — some  mighty  sage, — and  said  he  hehi  in  his 
hand  the  great  remedy  ;  said  to  the  whole  city  of  New  York 
— ^'  Behold,  I  am  come  from  a  foreign  land,  where  we  have 
never  known  disease  or  complaint,  with  this  sovereign  remedy 
in  mv  hand:  no  one  that  partakes  of  this  shall  ever  suffer 
from"  this  hideous  disease."  Would  we  not  take  the  remedy 
out  of  his  hands  ?  Would  we  not  eat  of  that  medicine,  which 
is  life  out  of  death  to  us!  So,  Christ,  Our  Lord,  represents 
that  great  physician,  coming  with  a  sovereign  remedy  in  His 
hand^  and  with  that  remedy  we  will  remedy  our  nature  in  His 
Incarnation.  Then  He  says :  "  I  am  come  from  a  foreign 
land  that  has  never  known  disease  or  death.  I  carne  from 
Heaven.  I  bring  the  remedy  against  Adam's  corruption  and 
Adam's  sin.  I  am  the  head* of  your  nature:  now  I  am  one 
with  you.  So  I  say  to  you  all :  whoever  wishes  to  escape 
this  dire  disease,  must  partake  of  this  miraculous  food.  It  is 
the  self-same  food  brought  down  to  elevate  your  nature,  that 
is,  My  own  self."  W^hat  would  you  think  of  a  man  that  said, 
"Do  not  go  near  Him!  do  not  take  that  food  from  His 
hand  !  do  not  believe  in  Him "  ?— thus  clinging  to  disease 
and  death.  Why,  vou  see  clearly,  my  brethren,  as  we 
Catholics  believe  and  know  that  the  Almighty  (^od  has 
sufficiently  revealed  in  His  designs  that  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  for  every  man  who  wishes  to  be  saved  and  sanctified, 
to  come  into  personal  contact  with  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by 
opening  his  mouth  and  receiving  the  Body  and  Blood,  Soul 
and  Divinity,  of  the  Lord  in  the  Holy  Connnunion. 

Such  is  tiie  design  of  God.  Now  it  remains  for  us  to  see 
whether  that,  which  so  completely  fulfils  the  designs  of  God, 
fulfils  also  the  wants  of  man.  0  my  brethren  !  before  we 
leave  these  designs,  let  us  consider  how  magnificent  they 
are  !  The  Father  loved  man.  First,  in  the  beginning,  when 
as  God  He  loved  His  own  image.  What  great  love  have  you 
for  the  likeness  of  vour  own  face  in  the  looking-glass  ?    Every 


318  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

feature  is  there,  every  expression  is  there,  but  it  is  only  an 
image.  What  hive  would  a  man  have  for  his  own  portrait, 
even  though  designed  by  a  master  hand  ?  Eveiy  tint  and 
beauty  of  color  may  be  there,  every  delicate  trait  most  true 
to  nature,  and  to  the  person  represented.  But,  after  all,  it  is 
only  a  piece  of  canvas,  overlaid  with  a  little  paint  and  skil- 
fully arranged  ;  only  an  image.  God,  in  the  second  design, 
beholds  in  man  His  own  adorable  and  beloved  Son:  the  Eter- 
nal Word,  that  from  all  eternity  rested  iu.  the  Father's  bosom  ; 
the  very  figure  of  His  substance,  and  the  splendor  of  His  glory, 
equal  to  Him  in  all  things,  knowing  and  loving  Him,  and 
loved  by  Him  with  a  substantial  love,  which  is  the  third  per- 
son of  the  Blessed  Trinity — the  Holy  Ghost.  He  came  down 
from  Heaven,  became  man  ;  and  the  Eternal  Father  no  longer 
looks  upon  man,  as  a  man  would  look  upon  his  own  picture, 
as  an  image.  He  looks  down,  as  a  loving  father  of  a  family 
looks  down  on  the  face  of  his  eldest  son.  How  different  the 
love  of  a  man  is  for  his  own  image,  reflected  in  a  mirror,  or 
perpetuated  by  the  paintei-'s  hand, — cold,  lifeless,  inanimate, — 
and  his  own  image  seen  in  every  feature,  in  every  lineament 
of  his  child  ;  the  child  of  his  own  manly  love  ;  the  child  grow- 
ing and  displaying  every  perfection,  and  returning  the  love 
of'the  father;  thS  child  surrounding  all  the  graces  of  ordinary 
infancy  with  a  peculiar  grace  and  shining  beauty  in  his  fath- 
er's eyes,  until  he  draws  every  chord  of  that  father's  heart, 
entwining  around  him  so  closely,  that,  if  the  child  should  die 
or  disappear,  the  father  would  seem  to  have  lost  every  pm-- 
pose  of  life,  and  be  ready  to  lie  down  and  die  upon  the  grave 
of  his  first-born.  So  the  Almighty  and  Eternal  God,  looking 
down  in  the  second  design  of  His  redemption,  beheld  one  who 
was  not  a  human  person,  but  the  second  Divine  Person  of  the 
adorable  Trinity;  not  merely  human,  though  truly  human; 
but  man  and  God  united  in  one.  And  that  union  (consum- 
mated, not  in  man,  not  in  the  human  person,  but  in  God 
the  Divine  person :  and  just  as  that  image  of  Jesus  Christ 
so  captivated  the  Father's  love,  that  twice  He  rent  the  Heav- 
ens miraculously,  and  sent  down  His  voice, — once  when 
Christ  was  standing  in  the  Jordan ;  and  another  time  when 
He  was  transfigured  on  Mount  Tabor ; — on  both  occasions, 
the  miracluous  voice — as  if  God  could  no  longer  contain  His 
love — saying,  "This  is  My  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased.      Hear  ye  Him:"    that   image  so    captivated    the 


THE  BLESSED  EUCRJBIST.  319 

Fatlier's  love,  that  He  wislied  to  reproduce  it  in  all  tlie  cLil- 
dren  of  men, — that  He  wished  to  multiply  it.  It  was  so  fair, 
so  beautiful,  that  the  Eternal  Father,  whenever  He  cast  His 
e3'es  upon  the  earth,  wished  to  see  it  multiplied  in  every  man 
personally.  He  wished  to  see  every  man  another  Jesus 
Christ,  His  Son.  He  wished  to  be  able  to  say  to  you  and 
to  me : — ^^He  is  also  my  beloved  cliild,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased."  In  order  to  do  this,  His  Divine  Son  multiplied 
Himself,  and  remaine<l  upon  earth, — broke,  as  it  were,  His 
existence,  His  perfect  existence,  His  inseparable  existence  ; — 
broke  it;  se})arated  it  into  a  thousand  forms;  became  present 
upon  your  lips  and  mine,  and  on  those  of  the  little  child  that 
comes  up  to  this  altar  :  so  that  the  mere  image  of  God  receives 
the  Holy  Communion,  goes  dow-n  from  this  altar ;  and  the 
Father  of  Heaven  looks  down  and  says: — "Behold,  My 
beloved  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  is  there  ! "  The  Angel  Guar- 
dian that  conducts  the  child  to  the  altar,  prostrates  himself 
before  the  figure  of  that  child  as  he  returns  from  the  altar 
again.  For  now,  he  is,  indeed,  a  human  person  ;  but  God  is 
in  him. 

And  this  is  the  supreme  want  of  man.  That  which  is  the 
fulfilment  of  the  Divine  design  is  the  supreme  want.  What 
is  that  which  we  want?  Christian  believers  as  you  are,  tell 
me  your  great  want  in  this  W'Orld.  Every  man  has  his  own 
wants  and  hopes,  and  desires  and  purposes  of  life.  What  is  it 
that  you  want  1  What  do  we  aspire  to  ?  Tell  me.  One  man 
says  : — "  Well,  I  hope  to  become  a  wealthy  man  ;  to  be  the 
founder  of  a  grand  family  in  the  land."  Do  j^our  hopes 
stop  here,  my  friend  ?  The  grand  family  you  found  will  fol- 
low you  to  the  grave.  Have  you  brought  no  hopes  wnth  you? 
Another  says  : — "  1  hope  to  obtain  some  distinguished  posi- 
tion, the  first  position  in  the  land."  I  su})pose  you  may  be 
one  day  President  of  the  United  States.  But  the  day  will  come 
when  they  will  carry  the  President,  and  consign  him,  also,  to 
his  grave.  What  is  your  hope  and  minef  0  friends  and 
brethren,  is  it  not  my  hope  to  bring  out  in  my  soul,  here  by 
grace,  and  hereafter  b}^  glory,  the  image  of  the  Eternal  God, 
which  is  stamped  upon  it?  My  hope  is  to  live  in  the  light 
of  divine  grace,  to  walk  in  the  beaming  of  divine  purity. 
My  hope  is  to  keep  my  will  unfettered,  that  freely  I  may 
devote  it  to  the  service  of  my  God.  My  hope  is  to  rise  by  ' 
divine  help  into  all  the  majesty  of  Christian  holiness.      And 


320  FA  THEE  B  UEKE'S  DISCO  UESES. 

the  majesty  and  the  glory  of  the  Christian  man  lie  here, — that 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  ma}^  be  brought  out  in  him.  No 
great  one  iu  Heaven,  but  the  greatest  of  all — the  Eternal  God 
and  man,  Jesus  Christ.  He  stamped  the  God  upon  our 
humanity  in  the  Incarnation.  He  stamped  the  God  upon  oui 
nature  j  and  that  stamp  He  left  on  our  nature ;  and  we  must 
stamp  it  upon  our  person.  And  the  true  want  of  every  Chris- 
tian man,  and  the  true  purpose  of  his  existence,  is  to  bring 
out  the  Christ  that  is  in  him,  and  to  become  a  son  of  God. 
Nothing  short  of  this.  K  we  fail  in  this,  then  all  our  hopes 
perish  from  us.  If  we  fail  in  this,  it  is  in  vain  that  we  have 
achieved  every  other  purpose  of  life  5  it  is  in  vain  that  we 
have  written  our  names,  even  in  letters  of  gold,  upon  the 
foremost  page  of  our  country's  history  ;  it  is  in  vain  that  we 
have  left  a  name  to  other  times,  built  up  upon  the  solid  foun- 
dation of  every  higher  quality  that  is  enshrined  in  the  temple 
of  man's  immortality.  It  is  in  vain  that  we  have  accumu- 
lated all  the  world's  riches.  If  we  fail  to  bring  out  the 
Christ  that  is  in  us,  then  we  are,  of  all  men,  the  most  misera- 
ble ;  because  we  have  failed  in  realizing  the  only  true  hope, 
the  only  true  want  of  the  Christian  man.  What  follows  f 
Says  the  Saviour — ^'  If  a  man  gain  the  whole  world," — the 
world's  places,  the  world's  honors — '^  and  lose  his  own  soul, 
what  profiteth  it  him?"  And  the  loss  of  his  soul  is  effected 
in  man  by  neglecting  to  bring  Christ  out  in  him.  For  it  is 
written — our  vocation,  our  calling,  our  justification — that  is 
to  sa}^,  our  sanctification — om-  ultimate  glory, — all  depend 
upon  one  thing, — making  om'selves,  by  divine  grace,  con- 
formable to  Jesus  Christ.  For  God  foreknew  and  predestined 
that  we  might  be  made  like  to  the  image  of  Jesus  Christ : 
and  'Hhose  whom  He  called  He  justified,  and  those  whom 
He  justified  He  glorified." 

This  being  the  walit  of  man,  how  is  it  to  be  supplied  I 
Can  man  ahjne  supply  the  want  1  No !  There  are  three 
enemies  that  stand  before  us.  Powerful  and  dreadful  is 
each  and  every  one  of  these  enemies,  saying  to  us — ^'  I  am 
come  to  destroy  the  Christ  in  you!"  The  first  of  these  is 
the  world — the  world  with  its  evil  maxims ;  the  world  with 
its  pride,  with  its  avarice,  with  all  its  false  ideas  5  the  world 
with  its  newspapers  and  periodicals  ;  with  all  its  theories 
not  stopping  short  of  theorizing  upon  God  ; — the  world  that 
tells  us  its  influence  is  elevating,   although  the   Almighty 


THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST.  321 

God  tells  us  it  is  not ;  and  that  mocking  bufibonery  of  reli- 
gion, dissolving  tbe  matrimonial  tie,  tlie  most  sacred  of  all 
bonds ;  tlie  world,  flooded  with  impm'ity,  evil  examples,  and 
its  evil  maxims  and  principles, — comes  before  the  Christian 
man  hoping  to  be  made  like  unto  Jesus  Christ,  and  says  :  ^'  I 
teJl  you  you  must  not  be  a  Christian.  I  will  surround  you 
by  my  influence;  I  will  beset  you  with  evil  examples;  I 
w*ill  pollute  the  moral  atmosphere  you  live  in  with  my  false 
principles,  and  work  the  Christ  out  of  you  ! "  Will  any  man 
be  able,  of  his  own  power,  to  resist  this  influence  and  conquer 
it  ?  Ah !  it  has  captivated  and  enslaved  the  best  intellects 
of  our  age ;  the  grandest  minds  of  our  age  have  been  utterly 
debauched  by  worldly  principles ;  for  we  know  the  very  best 
intelligences  of  our  age,  at  this  moment,  are  writing  the  sheer- 
est nonsense  about  religion ; — these  men  who  write  articles  in 
the  newspapers  with  so  much  wisdom  upon  commercial  sub- 
jects ; — these  men  w-hose  wats  are  keen  as  a  razor  in  phih>so- 
phical  speculation  ; — quick  to  perceive  a  flaw  in  an  argument; 
— when  these  men  come  to  write  about  religion,  they  are 
fools, — as  you  will  see  in  looking  at  any  of  the  leading 
newspapers  of  New  York  to-morrow  morning, — what  this 
man  and  that  man  said  in  the  various  conventicles  and 
churches  to-day  : — you  will  find  a  Quaker  standing  up, — a 
holy  man, — humming,  hawing,  and  rocking  himself;  lifting 
up  his  languid  eyes  to  Heaven ;  and  then,  after  a  long  pause, 
you  wdll  find  him  denying  the  Divinity  of  Jesus  Christ  and 
'declaring  tliat  He  was  not  the  Son  of  God  at  all !  This 
happened  last  Sunday  in  New  York.  You  will  find  another 
man  coming  out  with  the  theory  and  the  belief  that  man 
never  fell ;  and  therefore  does  not  need  any  remedy.  This 
— in  the  face  of  the  moral  and  social  corruption  and  guiltiness 
of  our  age,  that  is  revolting  to  the  eyes  of  God  and  man ! 

Thus  it  is  the  world  blinds  the  very  best  intellects,  and 
the  shrewdest  and  strongest  minds.  And  do  you  expect  to 
resist  this?  No!  You  cannot  do  it.  You  must  say  with 
St.  Paul :  '^  Of  myself  I  can  do  nothing ;  but  I  can  do  all 
things  in  Him."  In  Him  we  can  do  all  things.  He  is  here 
for  you  and  me. 

The  next  great  enemy  is  the  flesh ; — the  domestic  enemy. 
'J'he  blood  in  our  veins,  the  passions  and  the  senses  of  our 
bodies  rise  up  against  us  to  enslave  us,  and  say  :  "  You  must 
not  become  like  to  the  Son  of  God  !     The  Son  of  God  was 


322  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

infinite  purity.  I  will  not  allow  you  to  possess  your  soul  in 
purity  !  I  will  not  allow  you  to  develop  the  spiritual  exis- 
tence that  is  within  you  5  you  must  follow  the  dictates  of  your 
passions ;  you  must  become  a  di-unkardj  a  licentious  and  im- 
pure man !  I  will  fill  that  eye  with  the  flaming,  lustful 
glances  of  desire ;  I  will  make  the  absorbing  desire  for  every 
thing  base  throb  in  yom"  veins,  till  it  becomes  a  necessity  of 
your  nature."  Thus  says  the  flesh.  Can  we  conquer  it? 
The  greatest  and  the  grandest  of  earth's  sons  have  been  the 
meanest  slaves  to  their  own  passions.  The  grandest  names 
upon  the  rolls  of  history, — the  greatest  heroes, — the  greatest 
philoso})hers — have  all  attached  to  them — when  we  turn  the 
leaves  of  history  and  look  at  their  lives — the  foul  stain  of 
their  impurity,  running  through  their  lives  and  covering  all 
their  existence  with  the  vilest  of  all  earthly  passions.  No  ! 
We  cannot  conquer  this  flesh  of  ours,  but  in  Him, — the  Lord 
our  God, — who  of  old  bound  up  the  demon  and  cast  kiui 
forth  into  the  desert  of  Ethiopia.  So  can  we  bind,  with  Him, 
these  unruly  passions,  and  stem  the  flood  of  desire  in  our 
corrupt  and  polluted  natm'cs,  and  deny  om'selves  for  Him, 
who  will  enable,  while  He  commands  us  to  do  it  j  and  to 
cast  forth  the  demon  into  the  outer  world  that  is  so  fitted  for 
him. 

Finally  comes  the  pride  of  life  ; — the  third  enemy.  Ambi- 
tion, the  self-reliance,  the  pride  of  man,  the  pride  that  refuses 
to  be  dictated  to.  "Why" — that  pride  says — "  wh}^  should 
I  submit  to  the  commands  of  religion  ?  Why,  it  tells  me  I 
should  go  like  a  little  child,  and  prepare  myself,  and  go  to 
confession  !■  Wh}^,  it  tells  me  I  should  go  through  these 
devotions  that  are  only  fit  for  women  and  nuns !  Wh}"- 
should  I  fast  and  suffer  hunger  ?  I  have  all  things 
around  me.  Do  not  I  find  such  and  such  texts  in 
Sciipture  that  tell  me,  ^  All  things  are  good  ? '  Why  shall 
I  abstain  from  any  thing  ?  Why  should  I  not  have  my  own 
way,  and  reject  all  authority,  human  and  Divine  ?  and,  first 
of  all,  the  law  that  man  must  bear  the  obedience,  humility, 
and  mortification  of  Jesus  Christ  in  him  if  he  would  be 
saved  ?"  Will  you  be  able  to  contend  against  this  pride?  this 
pride  that  carries  away  the  best  and  highest  of  earth's  chil- 
dren '?  No  !  You  will  never  be  able  to  contend  against  it,  to 
keep  the  humility  of  your  intellect,  tke  fidelity  of  your  faith, 
unless  you  feed  upon  Him  who  is  the  source  of  all  virtue  and 


THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST.  323 

all  life.  Ami  tlius,  it  is  only  by  the  same  means  tliat  Christ 
Las  effected  in  the  Incarnation, — by  God  uniting  Himself  in 
our  nature  in  Christ, — that  He  also  efiects  our  sanctification 
in  the  Holy  Communion.  Therefore  it  accomplishes  at  once 
all  the  designs  of  God.       • 

I  have  done  my  duty.  I  have  finished  my  theme.  Nothing 
remains  for  me  but  to  remind  the  Catholics  who  are  here, — 
the  Catholics  of  this  city, — the  Catholic  men  who  were 
nourished  in  the  Catholic  faith,  and  derived  that  faith  from 
Catholic — and  many  anxmgst  them  from  Irish — mothers, — 
to  remind  you  that,  for  three  hundred  years  of  persecution 
and  death,  it  was  the  Holy  Communion,  and  Ireland's  devotion 
to  it,  that  kept  the  faith  alive  in  our  fathers.  They  resisted 
that  pride  of  life.  The  world  came  and  declared  to  them 
that  they  should  give  up  their  faith.  They  said  no,  against 
the  whole  world.  They  kept  their  faith  through  Jesus 
Christ,  in  the  Holy  Connnunion.  They  resisted  their  passions 
and  restrained  them  ;  so  that  Ireland's  purity,  in  the  purity 
of  her  daughters  and  the  manliness  of  her  sons, — (a  virtue 
that  always  accompanies  personal  pm'ity  and  purity  of  race), 
was  unexcelled.  They  resisted  even  when  titles  and  honors 
were  ready  to  be  showered  upon  them.  And  when  high 
intellect  was  challenged  to  disprove  the  faith  in  which  they 
believed,  they  bowed  down  before  tlieir  time-honored  altars  j 
and  Ireland's  faith  in  her  religion  was  never  stronger  than 
in  the  days  when  she  suffered  most  for  it.  I  say  to  you. 
Catholics  of  New  York,  that  no  man  can  be  saved  from 
the  world  around  him,  from  the  flesh  within,  and  the  Devil 
that  is  beneath  him,  unless  Jesus  Christ  be  with  him. 
I  tell  you.  Catholics  of  New  York, — men  of  New  York, 
who  only  go  once  a  year  to  Holy  Connnunion, — that  it 
would  be  almost  better  for  you  if  you  did  not  know  the 
truth.  If  you  want  to  know  the  explanation  of  your 
sins, — of  the  drunkenness  around  you, — of  the  impurity 
and  savage  assaults  committed ;  of  all  the  quick,  hasty 
crimes  of  which  our  Irisli  nature  is  more  capable  than  of 
the  meaner  and  more  corrupt  crimes. — the  reason  of  it  all 
is  this, — that  you  are  not  frequent  and  fervent  connnunicants. 
If  you  ask  me  for  a  rule,  I  find,  although  I  go  to  Communion 
every  day  of  my  life,  I  have  enough  to  do  still  to  conquer 
my  spiritual  enemies.  And,  if  I,  a  priest,  have  enough  to 
contend  with  to  be  saved  after  receiving  the  Holy  Communion 


324  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

every  morning, — how  can  you  be  saved?  If  you  ask  me 
for  a  rule  I  will  give  it  in  a  few  words :  I  believe  every 
man  who  wishes  to  have  the  peace  of  Christ,  and  live  in  His 
Christian  holiness,  and  have  Christ  brought  forth  in  him, — 
that  man  should  be,  at  least,  a  mottlily  communicant. 


THE  DIVINE  COMMISSION  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

I A  Sermon  delivered  by  Very  Bev.  T.  N.  Burle,  O.P.,  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Vincent  Ferrer,  June  16,  187*2.] 

"At  that  time  it  came  to  pass  that,  when  the  multitude  pressed 
upon  him  to  hear  the  word  of  God,  he  stood  by  the  lake  ofGenesareth. 
And  he  saw  two  ships  standing  by  the  lake ;  but  the  fishermen  were 
gone  out  of  them,  and  were  washing  their  nets.  And  going  up  into  one 
of  th«?  ships  that  was  Simon's,  he  desired  him  to  draw  back  a  little  from 
the  land.  And  sitting,  he  taught  the  multitude  out  of  the  ship.  Now 
when  he  had  ceased  to  speak,  he  said  to  Simon  :  Launch  out  into  the 
deep,  and  let  down  your  nets  for  a  draught.  And  Simon  answering 
saitl  to  him  :  Master,  we  have  labored  all  the  night,  and  have  taken 
nothing:  but  at  thy  word  I  will  let  down  the  net.  And  when  they  had 
done  this,  they  enclosed  a  very  great  multitude  of  fishes,  and  their  net 
broke.  And  they  beckoned  to  their  partners  that  were  in  the  other 
ship,  that  the}'^  should  come  and  help  them.  And  they  came  and  filled 
both  the  ships,  so  that  they  were  almost  sinkhig.  Which  when  Simon 
Peter  saw,  he  fell  down  at  Jesus'  knee,  saying  :  Depart  from  me,  for  I 
am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord.  For  he  was  wholly  astonished,  and  all  that 
were  with  him,  at  the  draught  of  the  fishes  that  were  taken.  And  so 
were  also  James  and  John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  who  were  Simon's 
partners.  And  Jesus  saith  to  Simon  :  Fear  not ;  from  henceforth  thou 
shalt  catch  men.  And  having  bi^ought  their  ships  to  land,  leaving  all 
thuigs,  they  followed  him."— Luke  V,  1-11. 

When  we  read  tlie  positive  doctiines  laid  do\\Ti  in  the 
Gospel,  we  are  bound  to  open  our  minds  to  the  utterances  of 
the  Almighty  God.  We  are  also  hound  to  meditate  upon 
even  what  appear  to  be  the  most  trifling  incidents  recorded 
in  the  actions  and  sayings  of  Jesus  Christ.  Every  word  that 
is  recorded  of  Him  has  a  deep  and  salutary  meaning.  There 
is  not  one  word  in  the  Gospel,  nor  one  incident,  that  is  not 
full  of  instructhm  for  us:  and  the  evidence  that  this  Gospel 
gives  of  the  divinity  of  the  Chri.stian  religion,  and  of  the 
di\dne  origin  of  the  Chiu-ch,  lies  not  only  in  the  broad  asser- 
tion,— such,  for  instance,  as  where  Christ  says  :  ''I  will  build 
my  Chinch  upon  a  rock  ;  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  pre- 
vail against  it  5"  or,  elsewhere:  "He  that  will  not  hear  the 
Church,  let  him  be  to  thee  as  a  heathen  and  a  publican  ;" 
but  these  evidences  lie  also  in  the  minor  incidents  which  are 


326  FATHER  BURKKS  DISCOURSES. 

so  carefully  and  minutely  recorded,  from  time  to  time,  by  tlie 
Evangelists.  Now  I  ask  you  to  consider,  in  this  spirit,  the 
Gospel  which  I  have  just  read  to  you.  St.  Peter, — who  was 
afterwards  the  Pope  of  Rome, — began  life  as  a  fisherman,  on 
the  shores  of  the  Sea  of  G-alilee.  He  had  his  boats,  he  had 
his  nets :  he  swept  those  waters,  pursuing  his  humble  trade 
in  company  with  James  and  John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  and 
with  Andrew,  his  own  elder  brother.  These  men  had  passed 
the  night  upon  the  bosom  of  the  waters,  toiling  and  laboring ; 
but  they  had  taken  nothing.  Sad  and  dispirited  for  so  much 
time  and  labor  lost,  they  landed  from  their  boats  in  the 
morning  ]  and  tliey  toolv  out  their  nets  to  wash  them.  While 
they  were  thus  engaged,  a  great  multitude  appeared  in  sight, 
— men  who  followed  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  pressed 
around  Him,  that  they  might  hear  the  words  of  divine  truth 
from  His  lips.  He  came  to  the  shores  of  the  lake,  and  He 
entered  into  one  of  the  boats ;  and  the  Evangelist  takes  good 
care  to  tell  us  that  the  boat  into  which  the  Saviour  stepped 
was  Simon  Peter's  boat.  He  then  commanded  Peter  to  push 
out  a  little  from  the  land  that  He  might  have  a  little  water 
between  Him  and  the  people,  and  yet  not  remove  Himself  so 
far  from  them  but  that  they  might  hear  His  voice.  There, 
— while  the  people  stood  reverently  listening  to  the  law  of 
the  divine  Redeemer, — sat  the  Saviour  in  Petei-'s  boat,  in- 
structing the  multitude.  After  He  had  enlightened  tlieii: 
minds  with  the  treasures  of  the  divine  wisdom  which  flowed 
from  Him,  He  turned  to  Peter  and  said  to  him  :  '^  Launch  out 
into  the  deep,  and  let  down  your  nets  for  a  draught  of  fishes.'' 
Said  Peter,  answering:  ^'Master,  we  have  labored  all  night; 
and  we  have  taken  nothing.  However,"  he  replied,  ^^  in  Thy 
word  I  trust;  and  at  Thy  command  I  will  let  down  the  net." 
No  sooner  does  he  cast  that  net  into  the  sea,  under  the  eyes, 
and  at  the  connnand  of  Jesus  Christ,  than  it  is  instantly  filled 
with  fishes,  and  Petei^s  boat  is  filled  until  it  is  almost  sink- 
ing. This  is  the  fact  recorded.  What  does  it  mean  ?  What 
is  the  meaning  of  this  passage  in  the  Gospel  ?  Has  it  any 
meaning  at  all?  Was  it  prophetic  of  things  that  were  to  be? 
Oh,  my  brethren,  how  significant  and  how  prophetic,  in  the 
history  of  this  Christian  religion,  and  in  the  Church,  was  the 
action  of  Jesus  Christ  as  recorded  in  the  Gospel.  "He  sat 
in  Peter's  boat,  and  from  that  boat  He  taught  the  people." 
W^hat  does  this  mean  ?     What  is  this  barque  of  Peter  ?     Need 


THE  DIVINE  COMMISSION  OF  THE  CHURCH.       327 

I  tell  you,  my  Catholic  friends  and  beloved  bretlireii,  ^^llat 
this  barque  of  Peter  meant  ?  Christ  our  Lord  l)uilt  unto  Him- 
self His  Church !  He  made  her  so  that  she  was  never  to  be 
shipwrecked  upon  the  stormy  waves  of  this  world.  He  built 
her  so  that  He  Himself  shall  be  always  present  in  her,  al- 
though Peter  sat  at  the  helm.  He  built  her  so  that  it  was 
her  fate  to  be  launched  out  up(m  the  ever-changing,  ever- 
agitated,  and  stormy  sea  of  this  world  and  its  society.  He 
declared  that  Peter* should  be  at  the  head  of  this  ship,  when 
He  said  to  him:  'Teed  thou  My  lambs;  feed  thou  My 
sheep  f  "  Confirm  thou  thy  brethren  ;"  "  I  will  make  you  to 
be  fishers  of  men ;"  ^'Launcli  out  into  the  deep,  and  let  down 
your  nets  fi>r  a  draught." 

St.  Peter  himself,  inspired  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  in  after  times 
taught  that  the  Church  of  God  is  like'  a  goodly  ship,  built 
by  Jesus  Christ,  in  which  were  to  be  saved  all  those  that  are 
to  be  saved  unto  the  end  of  time ;  for  he  compares  this  ship 
to  the  Ark  of  Xoah,  in  whiicli  all  who  were  saved  in  the  great 
ITeluge  found  their  refuge ;  for,  he  says,  all  were  destroyed 
and  perished,  save  and  except  tlie  eight  souls  who  received 
shelter  in  the  Ark  of  Nuati ;  and  tlie  rest  were  tossed  upon 
the  stonny,  tumultuous  billows  of  the  Deluge  ; — thrown  upon 
the  tide  ;— and  as  the  waters  rose  up  around  them  in  a  mighty 
volume,  the  strong  man  went  down  into  the  vasty  deep,  the 
infant  sent  forth  a  cry,  and  presently  its  cry  was  stifled  in 
the  suro'ing  waves.  All  was  desolation ;  all  was  destruction, 
save  and  except  tbe  Ark,  which  rode  triumphant  over  the 
waters,  passed  over  the  summits  of  the  mountains,  braving  the 
storms  of  heaven  al'ove  and  the  angry  waves  beneath,  until 
it  landed  its  living  freight  of  eight  human  souls  in  safety  and 
in  joy.  So,  also,  Christ  our  Lord  built  unto  Him  a  ship — 
His  Church;  He  launched  this  Church  forth  upon  the  stormy 
waves  of  the  world,  and  it  is  a  matter  of  surprise  tliat  this 
ocean  of  human  society  has  rot  welcome  for  the  Church  of 
God.  Men  ask,  "Is  Christianity  a  failure?  AVhy  are  so 
few  saved!  Why  are  so  few  found  to  comply  with  the  con- 
ditions which  the  Holy  Church  commands'?  Why,  if  she 
received  the  commission  to  command  the  whole  world,  and 
to  c<uivert  them,  why  is  it  that  this  Church  of  God  seems  to 
have  always  been  persecuted  and  abused!" 

Oh!  my  friends,  there  is  a  deep  and  profound  analogy 
between  the  things  of  nature  and  the  things  of  grace.     Tho 


328  FATHER  BUBKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

goodly  ship  is  built  upon  the  stocks  5  she  is  strongly  built, 
of  the  very  best  material ;  she  is  sheathed  and  plated  with 
every  thing  that  can  keep  her  from  the  action  of  the  seas ;  she 
is  built  so  that,  in  every  line,  she  shall  cleave  through  tjie 
waters  and  override  them  ;  and,  when  she  is  all  prepared,  she 
is  launched  out  into  the  deep  j  and  her  mission  is  to  spread 
her  sails,  and  navigate  every  sea  to  the  farthermost  end  of  the 
world.  Through  all  of  them  must  she  go;  over  them  all  must 
she  ride )  a  thousand  storms  must  she  brave ;  and  that  ocean 
that  receives  her  in  its  bosom,  apparently  receives  her  only 
for  the  purpose  of  tossing  her  from  wave  to  wave,  of  trying 
her  strength,  of  tr3nng  every  timber  and  every  joint,  opening 
its  mighty  chasms  to  swallow  her  up  and,  failing  in  that,  dash- 
ing its  angry  waves  against  her,  as  if,  in  the  order  of  nature, 
the  ship  and  the  sea  were  enemies,  and  that  the  ocean  that 
received  that  vessel  was  bent  upon  her  destruction.  Is 
it  not  thus  in  the  order  of  nature  ?  is  it  not  this  very  stormy 
ocean,  these  mighty,  foam-crested  billows,  these  angry,  roar- 
ing waves,  the  thunder  that  rolls,  and  the  lightnings  which 
flash  around  her, — is  it  not  all  these  that  try  and  prove  the 
goodness  of  the  ship  ;  and  if  she  outlive  them,  if  she  is  assur- 
edly able  to  override  them  all,  and  to  land  her  freight  and  her 
passengers  in  the  apptjinted  port, — is  it  not  a  proof  that  she 
is  well  built?  If  the  ocean  were  as  smooth  as  glass;  if  the 
winds  were  always  favorable  ;  if  no  impediment  came  upon 
her  5  if  no  waves  struck  her  and  tried  to  roll  her  back,  or  no 
chasm  opened  to  receive  her  into  its  mighty  watery  bosom ; 
what  proof  would  we  have  that  the  ship  was  the  making  of 
the  master  hand,  under  the  care  of  master  minds  ?  And  so 
Christ,  our  Lord,  built  the  ship  of  His  Church,  and  launched 
her  out  upon  the  world  ;  and  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case 
it  was  necessary  that,  from  the  very  first  day  that  she  set  forth 
until  the  last  day,  when  she  lands  her  freight  of  souls  in  the 
harbor  of  Heaven,  she  should  meet,  upon  the  ocean  of  this 
world  of  human  society,  the  stormy  waves  of  angry  contra- 
diction on  every  side.  This  was  her  destiny  ;  and  this,  unfor- 
tunately, is  the  destiny  that  the  world  takes  good  care  to 
carry  out. 

Men  say,  Christianity  is  a  failure,  because  this  Church  has 
not  been  enabled  to  calm  every  sea,  and  ride  triumphant, 
without  let  or  hindrance,  upon  every  ocean.  I  answer,  my 
friends,  Christianity  would  have  been  a  failui'e  if  the  ship  had 


THE  DIVINE  COMMISSION  OF  THE  CHUBCH.      329 

been  wrecked  j  Christianity  wonld  be  a  faibire  if  there  was 
any  ocean  into  which  that  ship  was  afraid  to  enter  ;  Christi- 
anity wonld  be  a  failure  if  that  sliip  were  known  at  any  time, 
at  any  moment  of  her  existence,  since  the  day  she  was  built 
and  rigged  by  Divine  wisdom  and  the  Divine  Architect, 
Christ, — if  she  were  known  for  an  instant  to  have  gone  down; 
for  a  moment  to  have  let  the  angry  waters  of  persecution  and 
error  close  over  her  head :  then  would  Clnistianity  be  a 
faiUne.  But  this  could  not  be,  for  two  reasons.  First  of 
all,  because  the  helmsman,  whom  Christ  appointed,  is  at  the 
wheel ;  and  he  is  Peter,  and  Peter  s  successor.  Second,  be- 
cause, in  the  ship, — Himself  seated  in  her,  and  speaking  in 
her,  casting  out  the  nets  that  are  to  gather  in  all  those  who 
come  on  board,  and  are  to  be  saved, — is  Christ,  the  Lord,  that 
God.  The  great  lessons  that  are  in  this  Gospel  are,  our 
Petei-'s  boat  cannot  be  wrecked,  because  Christ,  our  Lord,  us 
in  her;  Petei-^s  boat  cannot  be  emptied  of  the  living  freight 
of  souls,  because  He  is  in  her  who  commanded  the  net  to  be 
cast  out  until  the  boat  was  filled.  Petei-'s  boat  cannot  be 
destroyed,  because  Peter  himself,  in  his  successor,  is  at 
the  helm.  And  this  boat  of  Peter's  is  the  Holy  Roman 
Catholic  Church.  In  no  other  ship  launched  out  upon  this 
stormy  ocean  of  the  world  is  the  voice  of  God  heard.  In 
every  other  vessel  it  is  the  voice  of  man  that  commands  the 
crew;  it  is  the  hand  of  man  that  turns  the  ship's  prow  to 
face  the  storm  ;  it  is  the  hand  of  man  that  built  the  ship,  and, 
consequently,  every  other  ship  of  doctrine  that  has  ever  been 
launched  out  on  the  waves  of  this  world  has  gone  down  in 
shipwreck  and  in  destruction  ;  whereas,  the  oldest  of  all,  the 
holy  Catholic  Church,  lives  upon  the  waves  to-day,  as  fair  to 
the  eye,  floating  as  triumphantly  the  standard,  spreading  as 
wide  a  sail,  as  in  the  days  when  she  came  forth  from  the 
master  hand  of  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord.  In  her  the  word  and 
voice  of  God  are  heard.  Christ  sat  in  Peter's  boat;  and 
Christ  sits  in  Peter's  boat  to-day  ;  we  have  His  o\\  n  word 
for  it:  ''And  Heaven  and  earth,"  He  says,  ''shall  pass 
away,  but  My  word  shall  not  pass  away ;  and  ]\Iy  word  is 
this  ;  I  am  with  you  all  days,  until  the  consummation  of  the 
world."  But,  for  what  puri)ose,  did  we  ask,  "Art  Thou 
with  us?"  He  answers  and  says:  "I  am  with  you  to  lead 
you  to  all  truth  ;  to  keep  you  in  all  truth ;  to  teach  you  all 
truth  ;  and    to  command  vou,  that    even  as  I  have  taugfht 


330  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

j'oii,  so  go  yon  and  teach  all  nations  whatsoever  things  I 
have  taught  von." 

The  voice  of  Chiist  is  in  the  Chnrch  ;  the  voice  of  God , 
has  never  ceased  to  resound  in  her ;  the  voice  of  God  has 
never  been  silent,  from  the  day  that  Mary's  Child  first  opened 
His  infant  lips  upon  Mary's  bosom,  until  the  last  liour  of  the 
Avorld's  existence.  That  voice  is  misinterpreted  j  that  voice  is 
S(nnetimes  misunderstood.  Men  say,  here  is  the  voice  of 
God,  and  there  is  the  voice  of  God  j  the  people  lift  up  their 
voices  ^^ith  loud  demands,  sometimes  against  law,  sometimes 
against  right  and  justice  j  and  the  time-serving  politician  and 
statesman  says :  "  It  is  the  voice  of  the  people ;  it  is  the 
voice  of  God.  Vox  pojmli,  vox  Dei."  But  the  voice  of  the 
people  is  not  the  voice  of  God.  Tliere  is,  indeed,  the  voice 
of  God  resounding  on  the  earth;  but  it  is  only  heard  in  the 
unerring  Church  :  therefore  we  may  say  with  truth,  "  Vox 
ecdesice,  vox  Dei ;  "  the  voice  of  the  Church  is  the  voice  of 
God.  Wherever  the  voice  of  God  is,  there  no  lie  can  be  ut- 
tered, no  untnith  can  be  taught,  no  falsehoixl  can  be  preached ; 
wherever  the  voice  of  God  is,  there  is  a  voice  that  never  for 
an  instant  contradicts  itself  in  its  teachings ;  for  it  is  only 
enunciating  one  truth,  derived  from  one  source,  the  mind,  the 
heart  of  the  infinite  wisdom  of  the  Almighty.  Where  is  the 
evidence  in  history  of  a  voice  that  has  ever  spoken  on  this 
earth,  which  has  never  contradicted  itself,  except  the  voice 
of  the  Catholic  Church  f  I  defy  you  to  find  it.  There  is 
not  a  system  of  religion  which  pretends  to  teach  the  people 
"at  this  moment  upon  the  earth,  that  has  not  flagrantly  contra- 
dicted itself,  save  and  except  the  holy  Catholic  Church  of 
Jesus  Cluist.  Take  any  one  of  them  and  test  it.  Where  is 
the  voice  that  teaches  with  authority  save  and  except  in  the 
Catholic  Church  ?  Remember  wherever  the  voice  of  God  is, 
there-  that  voice  must  teach  with  authority ;  wherever  the 
voice  of  God  is  it  must  teach  with  ceitainty  and  clearness 
and  emphasis,  not  leaving  any  thing  in  doubt,  not  allowing 
the  people  to  be  under  any  misapprehension.  Where  is  that 
voice  to  be  heard  to-dav  save  and  except  in  the  holy  Cath- 
olic Church  ? 

Men  ask,  "  Is  Christianity  a  failure?"  I  answer,  No  !  It 
will  be  a  failure  as  soon  as  that  voice  of  the  Catholic  Church 
is  hushed  ]  it  will  be  a  failure  as  soon  as  some  King  or  some 
Emperor  or  some  great  stateiiman,  successful  in  war  and  in 


TEE  iJlViyE  COMMISSION  OF  THE  CHUEGH.     3:U 

council,  is  able  to  bend  the  Catholic  Chnrch  and  make  her 
teach  according-  to  his  notions  or  his  views.  AVhere,  in  her 
history,  has  she  ever  bowed  to  king-  or  potentate  '?  Where 
has  she  ever  shaped  her  doctrines  to  meet  the  views  of  this 
man,  or  to  further  the  designs  of  this  other  man  because 
they  were  able  to  persecute  her,  as  they  are  persecuting-  her 
to-day  ?  The  most  powerful  man  of  the  world  says  to  the 
Catholic  Church,  "  You  must  remodel  your  teachings  ;  you 
must  alter  some  of  your  dogmas  and  some  of  your  material 
])rinciples ;  you  must  admit  tliat  the  State  has  a  right  to 
educate  the  children ;  that  you  have  no  right ;  you  nmst 
admit  that  religion  is  not  a  necessary  element  of  education  ; 
I  will  make  you  do  it."  Thus  speaks  Yon  Bismarck.  He 
imagines  because  \\e  has  put  his  foot  upon  the  neck  of  the 
bravest  and  most  heroic  race  upon  earth,  that  now  he  can 
trample  upon  the  Church  of  Grod.  Oh  !  fool  that  he  is  !  oh, 
foolish  man  !  He  thinks,  because  he  has  trampled  upon  a 
nation,  that  he  can  trample  upon  Christ  and  His  holy  Spouse. 
He  says  to  the  Chiu'ch ;  '^  I  will  make  a  decree,  and  1  will  exi)el 
every  Jesuit  in  Germany  :  I  will  persecute  your  Bishops :  1 
will  take  your  churches ;  I  will  alienate  your  people ;  I  will 
persecute  and  imjn'ison  your  priests;  I  will  put  them  to 
death  if  necessary."  But  the  Chiu'ch  of  God  stands  calmly 
before  liim,  and  says :  "  Yon  can  do  all  this,  but  you 
cannot  make  me  change  my  teaching ;  I  am  God's  mes- 
senger, and  God  is  truth!"  Christ  speaks  in  Petei-'s  boat. 
It  is  true  there  are  many  who  will  not  hear  His  voice.  I 
ask  you  what  is  their  fate?  What  is  their  fate  who  re- 
fuse "to  hear  the  voice  of  the  tnie  Church  f  They  appeal 
to  the  Scriptures.  In  this  morning's  New  York  Herald^ 
there  is  a  letter  from  a  man  who  denies  the  imTiiortality 
of  the  soul :  and  he  proves  it  by  "  five  texts  from  Scrip- 
ture." The  very  tnith  that  Plato,  the  pagan  philosopher, 
wrote  a  l)Ook  to  jnove, — a  man  who  had  never  heard  the 
name  of  God  ;  who  had  never  known  the  light  (►f  God  ; — by 
the  natural  light  of  his  benighted,  pagan  intellect  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  the  soul  was  immortal,  and  that  its  immor- 
tality was  inherent,  and  belonged  to  it  as  its  nature. 
That  which  the  pagan  |>4iiloso])her  discovered  and  proved, 
the  Christian  of  to-day  denies;  and  he  cpiotes  "five  texts  of 
Scripture"  to  prove  tiiat  the  soul  of  man  is  not  immortal  ;  and 
that  men  when  they  die,  even  in  their  sins,  cease  to  exist  j  that 


332  FATHER  BURKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

there  is  no  judgment,  no  consequences,  no  vengeance  ;  for 
them  no  torments ;  they  have  no  hell.  He  proves  it  by  the 
Scripture,  and  gives  the  lie  to  Him  who  said:  ^'  Depart  from 
me,  ye  accursed,  into  everlasting  flames,"  That  is  the  fate 
of  all  those  outside  the  Catholic  Church.  They  are  tossed 
about  by  every  whim  and  caprice  of  doctors,  who  now  start 
one  theory  and  then  another  ;  who  now  dispute  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  Scripture,  and  again  the  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ; 
A\ho  now  deny  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  then  come 
and  abuse  me,  and  the  like  of  me,  because  I  tell  them  that, 
until  they  step  on  board  of  Peter's  boat,  they  have  no  secmity, 
no  certainty,  no  true  liglit,  no  true  religion,  and  that  they 
must  go  down.  We  are  called  bigots,  because  we  preach 
tire  Word  of  God,  and  refuse  to  change  our  teaching  to  suit 
tlie  varying  views  of  men.  If  the  Church  preach  not  the  truth, 
tlien  where  is  the  us«  of  having  a  Church  at  all  ?  But  if  the 
Church  teach  the  truth,  if  she  come  with  a  message  from 
God,  it  is  not  in  her  power,  nor  in  my  power,  nor  in  any  man's 
power,  to  change  it.  I  ctnne  to  preach  to  you  the  very  words 
of  Chi-ist :  ^'  He  that  will  not  hear  the  Church,  let  him  be  as 
a  heathen  and  a  publican."  If  I  come,  then,  and  say,  ''  It 
is  not  necessary  to  hear  the  Catholic  Church ;  if  you  love 
tlie  Lord  and  believe,  it  is  all  light ; "  if  I  say  that,  I  am 
telling  a  lie,  and  I  am  damning  my  own  soul.  1  cannot  do  it. 
I  must  preach  the  message  which  Christ  our  Lord  has  given 
me.  I  should  be  glad  to  preach  a  wider  faith,  if  God  would 
let  me ;  but  I  must  preach  the  message  of  God.  If  they 
steel  their  hearts  and  turn  their  ears  against  our  doctrines, 
God  will  hold  them  accountable,  for  He  has  said  :  "  He  that 
believeth  not  shall  be  condemned." 

Not  only,  my  brethren,  is  the  voice  of  Christ  heard  in 
that  Church  in  the  truth  which  has  never  changed  nor  con- 
tradicted itself ;  but  the  second  great  action  of  the  Church 
of  God  is  prefigured  in  our  Divine  Lord's  action  in  this  day's 
Gospel.  "Peter,"  He  said,  "launch  out  thy  boat  into  the 
deep,  and  let  down  thy  nets  for  a  draught."  It  is  no 
longer  a  question  of  preaching.  The  people  have  heard  the 
Lord's  voice ;  they  have  retired  from  the  shores  of  the  lake, 
and  scattered  themselves  to  their  homes,  each  one  taking 
with  him  whatever  of  that  word  fell  upon  the  soil  of  a  good 
heart.  Now,  the  next  operatiim  begins ;  and  it  is  between 
Christ  and  Peter.     "Launch  out  into  the  deep,"  He  says; 


THE  DIVINE  COMMISSION  OF  THE  CnURCH.     a:5:] 

"  cast  forth  thy  net."     Peter  cast  out  his  net,  and  he  filled 
his  boat  with  lishes.     What  does  this  mean  ?     It  means  the 
prefiguration   of  the  saving  and  sacramental  action  of  the 
Chmxih  of  God  ;  for  not  only  is  the  voice  of  Christ  heard, 
but  the  action  of  Christ  is  at  work  in  her,  taking  yon,  and 
me,  and  all  men  who  will  submit  to  that  action,  out  of  the 
waters  of  passion  and  impurity,  and  vain  desu'e,  and  every 
form  of  sin,  and  lifting  us  up  by  sacramental  action,  out  of 
those  waters,  and  placing  us  in  the  the  ship  under  His  very 
eyes, — in  the  light  of  His  sanctity  and  the  brightness  of  His 
glory.    His  action  lies  in  the  Catholic  Church;  and  she  alone 
can  *draw  forth  from  the  stormy,  destructive  waters  of  sin, 
the  soul  that  will  submit  to  be  so  drawn.     A  man  falls  into 
that   sea; — a  man, — like   Peter,   in   another  portion  of  the 
Gospel, — the  Christian  man, — treading  upon  the  fluctuating 
waves  of  his  own  passion,  of  his  own  evil  desire  and  wicked- 
ness, can  scarcely  keep  his  footing,  and  can  only  do  it  as 
long  as  he  fixes  his  eye  upon  Jesus  Christ,  and  adheres  to 
Him.      But  a  moment  comes,  as  it  came  to  Peter,  when  the 
waves  seem  to  divide  under  om-  feet,   when  man  is  sinking, 
sinking  into  the  waves  of  his  own  passions,  of  his  owu  base- 
ness, into  the  waves  of  his  own  coiTupt  nature,  when  he  feels 
that  these  waves  are  about  closing  over  him.     He  is  lost 
to  the  sight  of  God ;    and  he  sees  Him  no  more.       God  sees 
him  no  more  with  the  eyes  of  love ;  God  sees  him  no  more 
with  the  eyes  of  predilection.       He  has  lost  his  past  with  all 
its  graces,*and  his  future  with  all  its  hopes ;    he  has  gone 
down  in  the  great  ocean  of  human  depravity  and  human  sin  ; 
and  he  has  "sunk  deeply  into  these  waters  of  destruction. 
Oh  !    what  hand  can  save  him  ?  what  power  can  touch  him  f 
The  teacher  of  a  false  religion  comes  with  his  message  of 
trust  and  confidence;    comes  with  message  of  glozing  and 
flattery ;  comes  to  tell  this  fallen,  sinful  man  :   "  You  are  an 
honest  man  ;  you  are  an  amiable  man ;  you  have  many  good 
gifts ;    be  not  afraid  ;    trust  in  the  Lord ;    it  is  all  right ; " 
while  the  serpent  of  impurity  is  poisoning  his  whole  existence. 
Oh!  that  I  had  the  voice  of  ten   thousand  thunders  of 
God,  that  I  might  stifle  the  false  teachings,  and  drown  the 
voice  of  those  who  are  poisoning  the  people  by  pandering  to 
their  vices  and  flattering  their  vanity,  and  not  able — nor 
willing,   even   if  able — to  teach  the  consequences  of  their 
bins!      The  Catholic  Church  alone,  ignoring  whatever  of 


:\M  FATHFAl  BUIIKE'S  DISCOURSES. 

good  there  may  be  in  a  man,  if  slie  finds  Mm  in  mortal  sin, 
lays  her  hand  upon  that  sin ;  she  makes  the  man  touch  him- 
self with  his  own  hand,  look  at  himself,  and  realize  his 
miseries.  She  tears  away  the  bandages  with  which  his  self- 
love  conceals  the  wound ;  and  then,  with  her  sacramental 
power,  she  cuts  out  all  that  proud  and  corrupt  fiesb  ;  she 
cleanses  the  wound  with  the  saving  blood  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
she  brings  him  forth  from  out  that  slough,  that  cesspool 
of  impurity  and  wickedness,  and  cures  hiui,  and  brings  him 
forth  with  the  tears  of  sorrow  on  his  face,  with  a  new-born 
love  of  God  in  his  heart,  in  the  whiteness  of  his  baptismal 
innocence ;  and  he  is  now  no  longer  in  the  wiles  of  hell,  but 
he  takes  his  place  and  lifts  up  his  eyes  in  gladness  before  the 
Lord,  What  other  Church  can  do  that  ?  What  other  religion 
even  pretends  to  do  it,  and  does  it !  In  her  Sacraments  she 
does  it.  Her  sacramental  hand  w'ill,  though  sin  be  sunk  into 
his  blood,  go  down  and  sweep  the  very  bottom  of  the  deep 
lake  of  iniquit}^,  and  take  even  those  who  lie  there,  fossilized 
in  their  sin,  and  scrape  them  up  from  out  the  very  depths  of 
their  misery,  and  make  them  fit  for  God  once  more.  As  they 
are  out  of  the  way  of  salvation  who  hear  not  the  voice  of  the 
Church — the  voice  of  Christ — so,  also,  these  Catholics  are 
outside  of  the  way  of  salvation  who  will  not  come  and  submit 
to  her  cleansing  and  sacramental  power,  who  refuse  to  open 
their  souls  to  her,  who  refuse  to  come  freqaently  and  fervently 
to  her  confessional,  and  to  her  communion  table.  To  do 
that  is  as  bad  as  if  they  refused  even  to  hear  her  voice,  even 
as  if  they  disputed  her  testimony.  The  bad  Catholic  is  in 
as  bad  a  position,  and  in  even  a  worse  position,  than  that  of 
the  poor  man  who  disputes  and  raises  questions  as  to  whether 
the  soul  is  immortal,  and  as  to  whether  Jesus  Christ  is  God. 
Oh,  my  brethren,  let  us  be  wise  in  time ;  let  us  have  the 
happiness  to  know  and  to  hear  the  voice  that  speaks  in  the 
Church.  Oh,  let  us  lay  ourselves  open  to  her  sacramental 
power  and  bare  our  bosoms  to  her  sanctifying  touch  and 
cleansing  hand,  that  so  we  may  be  guided  into  the  treasures 
of  her  choicest  and  best  gifts ;  that  so,  if  we  have  not  the  in- 
effable gift  of  purity,  if  we  have  sinned,  we  may  at  least  have 
our  robes  washed  in  the  waters  of  grace,  and  restored  to  their 
first  brightness  through  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  our  Saviour  5  and, 
in  this  iiope,  let  us  pass  the  few  remaining  days  of  our  lives 
here,  sharing  in  our  mother's  struggles;  taking  a  hand  in  her 


THE  DIVIXE  COMMISSION  OF  THE  CHUECH.     335 

quarrels ;  weatliering  with  her  every  storm  that  bursts  over 
us,  in  the  contidence  that  she  is  destined  to  triumph  and  to 
lide  in  safety  over  the  crest  of  every  opposing-  wave.  It  will 
not  always  be  so.  The  haven  is  at  hand.  The  Church  Mili- 
tant passes  from  the  ano-ry  ocean  of  her  contests  into  the 
calm  and  quiet  haven  of  her  triumph.  Oh,  in  that  harbor, 
no  stormy  winds  shall  ever  blow  5  no  angry  waves  shall  ever 
raise  their  foaming  crests;  there  and  only  there,  when  the 
night,  with  its  tempests  and  storms  of  persecution  and  of 
difficulty — the  night  with  its  biiftetings  upon  the  black  face 
of  the  angry  ocean, — when  all  that  has  been  passed  through, 
in  the  morning  shall  the  Christian  come  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
his  eternity.  Then  will  he  hear  the  voice  of  Him  who  was 
present  in  the  storm,  saying  to  the  waves:  "Be  still!  Be 
calm!"  and  to  the  stormy  winds  howling  around,  "Depart. 
Leave  us  in  peace."  Then  the  clouds  shall  fade,  and  every 
ripple  shall  cease;  and  there  on  that  ocean,  which  was  so 
stormy,  every  angry  gust  of  wind  shall  die  away  into  per- 
fect calm ;  and,  in  the  distant  horizon  before  ns,  we  shall 
behold  the  Church  Triumphant, — while,  like  the  spread  of 
tbe  illimitable  ocean,  we  see  that  pacific  ocean  of  God's 
eternity  illumined  by  the  sunshine  of  His  l)lessedness.  And 
there  shall  be  every  beauty  and  happiness.  All  that  shall 
be  ours  if  we  only  fight  the  good  fight,  if  we  only  keep  the 
faith,  and  the  commands  of  God  delivered  to  ns  by  His  holy 
Church. 


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